Magnificent Knight
by justalil'obsessed
Summary: Edward Cullen is soon to be king, and is betrothed to a woman from another kingdom.  But what happens when his love is meant for Isabella Swan, the one woman he cannot have?
1. Chapter 1

Something hit my back, hard, and I cried out in surprise, straightening from my work in the fields. I turned around quickly, expecting to see Lord James or one of his men, but instead Charlie stood with his hand on his hip, his face grim.

"You should have heard me Isabella." He scolded. I dropped my head and clasped my hands behind my back. Father had taught me since I was a little girl that I was to address anyone of power like this. Including him. As my eyes instinctively faced the ground, I saw the very familiar, worn wooden sword just a foot in front of my feet. Charlie must have tossed it at me.

I waited for instructions even though I already knew what they were.

"Pick up your sword, Isabella." He said.

"Father, the crops—" I started, motioning to the vast field around me, ripe with wheat.

"Isabella." Charlie interrupted, and I kept quiet, reaching down to pick up the sword and held it in both of my hands, feet spread shoulder width apart. "Back straight Isabella. Must I tell you every time?"

I straighten my back further and lift my head to look at Charlie. The lessons have been too close together lately. It worried me. In the barn when I was tending to the Lord James' horses, Charlie had interrupted me for a lesson. And not five hours later he stood before me, his own sword in his hand. Charlie had started using a metal sword last year. Obviously it was a lot more painful than the wooden sword he used with me growing up.

He stood maybe five feet away, his sword hanging loosely in his hand, eyes scanning over my form. He smiled, approving, and I fought my own urge to smile. I hated fighting more than any of my other chores on the field and barn, and Charlie knew, but he appreciated my participation in every lesson and especially when I remembered it the next day.

Without warning he charges. That first thrust of the sword is the only one that scares me. My body is tense and waiting before and it gets me every single god damn time. Charlie does not miss the tiny jump of my feet that lands me on the tip of my toes, and gives me a look. I hate that look. I side step the thrust he jabs at me, but his sword is already where I was moving, anticipating my moves.

Rule one: expect their moves then move accordingly.

I only have split milliseconds to run through my steps and then even shorter to go through with them. I should have known that Charlie was setting me up for a defensive position. My sword instinctively moves to the side so his sword down not cut into my hip. Instead it hit my wooden sword and I tense my muscles so it doesn't knock back into my anyways. I push his sword away with a huff and bring it around to his opposite side.

Rule Two: Play offense only when their defense is down.

Charlie is fast though and he twists his sword to hit my hand away and the slice my arm. I hiss in pain.

"In battle, your sword hand would be lying on the ground right now." Charlie says, disappointment in his voice. I feel the blood spill down my arms but I ignore the pain and push the sword back at him with more force.

He blocks my blows, first to his right side, his left side, his front.

Rule three: make them expect your moves. Do not show you're true fighting form from the beginning until you know there is no other option.

To the left again, just blind slices. Charlie hits my sword away. He looks bored. I inwardly smile. Suddenly he hits my sword away and swipes his sword around, tears my shirt but only grazes the skin. I come with an upward swing, hitting Charlie's sword up into the air. He manages to hold onto it, but he is caught off guard and I am able to bring the sword to Charlie's neck, keeping the same angle I had. I stop, panting, with my sword resting on his neck.

Rule four: You have a chance to kill, you kill.

I have never killed anyone. Obviously, when I am only fighting with Charlie, we do not actually fight until the death. We always end in the position death would have taken.

Charlie is breathing heavy and he drops his sword to his side, smiling. He reaches forward and claps me on the shoulder, almost knocking me over. "Good job kid."

I smile back and drop my sword from his neck. He hands me his. "I'll finish up out here. Go dress your wound."

I nod and jog back to the cabin, set right up against the dirt road. I toss the swords onto Charlie's loft and grab a ceramic bowl from the corner, along with a cloth and some bandages.

The well outside was quickly drying up. The gods were punishing us wickedly for some sin we must have committed. The crops, dried and withered and not nearly as full as we need for the Lord, are behind me. I hear Charlie, cutting the wheat as I had been doing before he interrupted. I grab just drops of water and place them into the bowl. I wet the cloth and wipe the blood from my arm before I wrap the cotton bandages tightly around the cut, an inch below the crease of my elbow.

I turn my head to enter the cabin once more when I see the carriage moving over the hill in the distance.

The bowl shatters at my feet.

"Ch—father!" I shout, stuttering out the proper title. "Father the Lord approaches!" Charlie's head lifts in the distance, above the swaying rows and he motions franticly for me to enter the cabin. I do. I move as fast as I can, pulling the string that hold my pants up so they fall to the floor and then pulling the shirt over my head. Charlie lets me use his clothes for the field work only, and they smell and are dirty by the time I return them to him.

Naked, I run to the corner of the one room cabin and grab the peasant dress from the floor, flinging it onto my body and lacing it up the front, tying it in a messy, horrible looking bow at the top, above my breasts so they were completely covered. I straightened the sleeves; made sure my wrists were covered and then felt my hair. It was pulled up with some twine and I ripped that out easy, combing my hair with my fingers. Charlie came charging into the cabin, the shattered remains of the bowl cutting his fingers.

"You're face." He said in a tight, panicked voice. I touched it instantly, feeling the dirt and grime. I yelp and run out to the well, filling the bucket inside and splashing my face, using the clean corners of my bloodied cloth to dry my face. I can hear the horses stomping along the gravel now and my heart threatens to burst through my chest. Panicking, I throw the towel into the well.

"Blasted thing!" I curse, instantly trying to catch it as it fluttered down, down, down, into the blackness and then the water. I stare at it with wide eyes, and then back towards the black horses slowing to a trot outside the cabin.

Oh, how stupid I was! I had just dirtied the wretched water with blood!

Charlie came out of the cabin and I rushed over to him. Together, side by side, we stood in front of the cabin as one of the four horses walked in front of us. My hands, clasped behind my back, and my head bent, I was met with the massive feet of the Lord's steed.

"Charlie." Sir James said, his voice flat.

"Lord James, I had not known you were coming to see the crop—"

"Did I ask you to speak, peasant?" Sir James spat out, effectively quieting Charlie. I stopped myself from flinching as the smell of wheat took over the air. I Heard Sir James inhale and hold it before letting it out in a whoosh of air.

"The drought has destroyed our fields, has it not peasant?" Sir James said. "Speak!"

"Yes, my Lord, it has." Charlie said in his gravelly voice. How he made it not quiver in fear was beyond me.

Sir James made a scophing sound in the back of this throat and was quiet again. "Girl." He said finally. I looked up, knowing how he addressed me every time he visited. "What has your cheeks dirtied?" he asked.

Sir James sat atop his black horse, clad in armor as he was so inclined to wear around his village. His sword hung in its holster, his black gloved hand resting atop the hilt. I stared into his blue eyes, and I tried to hide my panic.

It was unheard of, woman working the fields. Especially to Sir James. He felt woman should be in their place in the house, cleaning, cooking, and lying still as their husbands bedded them. He felt they should bear their children, raise them, and let them go while maintaining the same tasks. If a woman were to take the man's job, were to help the man, in Sir James' eyes, that was blasphemy and the man would me hung after watching the female raped and brutalized for however long he felt like doing it.

"I had been clearing the floor, my Lord." I stuttered out, blushing wildly. "The dirt must have soiled my face, Lord."

"Hm." He said, gazing at me endlessly until I could not take it and stared at my feet. I hear the faint sound of metal sliding against leather and suddenly something sharp sticks into my throat, applying pressure until my neck is raised.

Eye wide, with Charlie tensing beside me, I stare at Sir James with his sword held tight to my throat. "Do _not_," he hissed, "look away from me until I tell you to." I stare at him, my eyes wide, the color blossoming in my cheeks earlier vanishing instantly. "Do you understand?"

I nod my head, feeling the sword cut the skin and blood leak down my collar bone and soaking into the fabric of my dress.

He stared at me with what felt like forever until he made a noise of disgust and sheathed his sword. I felt my shoulders slump, not realizing just how tensed up I had actually been, and went to looking at my feet once more as he shifted his gaze to Charlie.

"Peasant," he said, sounding bored. "My crops are important to me, yes?" Charlie nods next to me. "Speak to me, peasant." The Lord hisses.

"Yes, my Lord, the crops are very important." Charlie answers robotically.

Sir James nods, satisfied. "And I find myself incredibly disappointed upon seeing what is supposed to be my main crop source this harvest."

I gulp. This is not good in any means. Lord James is displeased. Which means a death is sure to be warranted. Oh Charlie. Oh Charlie couldn't die, he couldn't. I would be thrown into the brothel with the other peasant whores and raped until I could no longer feel.

"There is no trade if there are no crops, peasant." He spits at Charlie's feet, and I watch the offending liquid sit on Charlie's tattered field boots. "I want it harvested and bundled by the end of the week, peasant. If I am not satisfied, if it is not completed, if it is not worthy of my liking, then you shall be beheaded, and your daughter shall be soiled by my hand."

I shivered under the hot blazing sun.

"Do I not speak clearly, peasant?" Sir James says, spitting once again at Charlie's boots.

"You speak clearly, my Lord." Charlie says. He does not argue. He knows what happens when he argues. My mother's grave, sitting idly next to the other side of the cabin, proves it.

"Good." James says, nodding to himself. "Well, go on with your work."

Charlie starts to walk away, and I follow, but Sir James stops me. Charlie looks over his shoulder, worry staining his gruff face, but I nod and he goes on, for my own good. To defy the Lords commands would be punishment for him, and punishment for me.

I turn back to the Lord and stare at him atop his horse. He smiles down at me. "You are too beautiful to be working on this farm, Girl." He says. I say nothing. He did not ask a direct question. "I would graciously allow you to work within my castle, as a servant. You will work through the day, and I shall even grace you with my attention once the day turns to night."

I swallow thickly and try to speak, but something is blocking my throat. To deny his request would seem rude to him, and I could be beheaded on the spot. Then how would Charlie get through the crop? But to agree would to say I was willing to be his slave, practically, and that I would be willing for him to bed me every night, as he pleases, and that disgusts me.

"Speak, Girl." Lord James snaps. "I have graced you with such an offer and you remain silent? I should mount your head on a stake just from the rudeness."

I swallowed again and attempted to stutter out a response.

"Sir James, I had hoped to stay with my father at leas until the crops have been handled to your likes, Lord. Charlie has no way of keeping the house or means of food without me, Sire. I mean no disrespect, my Lord." I bowed my head, biting my bottom lip and waiting to see if I would feel the blunt edge of the sword cutting into my neck. I felt nothing.

"I shall be speaking to you shortly then, Girl. Until then, do not let that peasant forget the consequences of disappointing me."

"Yes, my Lord."

I lift my head only to watch him and his three guards take off down the road, their horses grunting under the heat, their flanks flexing as they pushed across the dirt road.

I shudder and collapse onto my knees upon the gravely ground, resting my head in my hands. A hand is placed on my shoulder and jump, a scared squeak coming from my throat. I jump to my feet and turn around, only to see Charlie.

"Oh father." I said, my lip trembling, and he grabs the sides of my arms, pulling me into a tight embrace and lets me cry into his chest.

"Isabella." Charlie says, petting the top of my head, moving through my hair that fell to my waist. "My sweet, sweet Bella. I believe we must speak about some things."


	2. Strange proposition

Charlie lets me go and walks to the cabin. I follow quickly, my bare feet getting cut by the stones beneath me. Charlie enters the cabin and moves to the far end, where a small, two person table and rickety stools are. He collapses into one and rests his back against the packed dirt wall.

"Sit, Isabella." He says. He sounded so tired and beat, and he closes his eyes. I sit down and he is quiet for the longest time, I think he had fallen asleep.

Finally he sighs and opens his eyes, and turned to me to rest his clasped hands on top of the table. "Isabella—" he starts, but his words seem to catch in his throat and he closes his eyes once more. "I'm going to say things that you are going to instantly disagree with. I need you to keep quiet. You are not to speak, to go against what I say, until I am done speaking. Do you understand?"

I nod, apprehension coursing through my body. Charlie is quiet for what seems like forever before he starts talking, keeping his tired eyes closed.

"When I met Renee, she had been everything to me." He began. I instantly tense. We never speak of my mother. It pains us both too much to remember what happened. "She was in the market place when we met. We were married the next month. She was pregnant with you the next year. I rented this land from Lord James, and he was all too willing. He loved the money the crop brought, and he loved the torture he got to pass when he was disappointed.

"I needed the land, Isabella. I was raised as a farmer. That was all I knew how to do. You need to be born a knight or praised as one by a king in order to become something of such power. I could not join the army. They said I was too old. I needed to farm, and Lord James was the only one willing to do so even though I had a wife with child. So I worked the land for a year until you were born. And suddenly Renee wasn't my only everything. I had you too.

"And then you remember what happened twelve summers ago, when the Locusts devoured the crops. He took Renee's life. There was no way I could stop him. And she knew she was the one to die. She was not a man, could not help with the field. And you were younger, more beautiful, to work the house, or work for him. He chose my dear wife because in his eyes, she was the least valuable."

Charlie's voice starts to crack here, and he covers his face with his hands, speaking through them. I fight back the tears at the memory, of how Lord James held her down, what he did to her, what he made us watch.

Charlie continued, "I lost her and I felt so powerless when it happened. That was when I started to teach you the ways of the sword. Do you remember?" I nod, the memories clear. "I could not let you be as unprotected as I left her. I needed you prepared. And then this year, when the drought occurred, I knew the training was more urgent than ever. I knew what—what was going to happen. What _is_ going to happen. At the end of the week."

I open my mouth to interrupt there, but, as if he knew I was going to talk, he opens his eyes and stares coolly at me. "Remember, Isabella, wait." I nod, numb, tears prickling the corners of my eyes.

"The wheat is thinning and spiny. Half are dead from half way up. Not a quarter of the field is ripe and he needs it by the end of the week, Isabella. You have helped me every year since your mother passed. Every year and I have not over looked the fact that you should not be doing this, that I am so incapable of providing for you like a man does for his family, that you have had to lower yourself to dirtying yourself with the dirt in which a man is born for.

"Isabella, I must confess to you something that shames me greatly." I tensed further, if possible. "I have not been showing you the sword just for your own protection when I am unable to protect you myself. I have showed you to fight because . . . because—I—I knew one day I was going to be incapable of tending the crops and I knew that Lord James would—he would, well, do what—what he just promised to do."

He cleared his throat, and I looked away, forcing myself to not believe Charlie, my father, was actually starting to cry. "I needed to plan some way for you to not suffer the fate presented to you by the Lord. I came up with only one way.

"You cannot serve in another kingdom. Lord James would find you instantaneously, just the same was you cannot work in the village, or even the brothel, as much as that thought sickens me old heart. This may—_is_—going to sound absurd to you, Isabella. But remember, do not speak."

I nodded my head again, my voice blocked suddenly. This was a nightmare. A complete, horrible nightmare and I hadn't even heard what he was proposing yet.

"Isabella, if the crop fails by the end of the week, you must flee. You must—you must join the flanks of war."

Even if Charlie had not told me to keep quiet, I wouldn't have said anything, for right then, things became a kind of dream to me. Unreal, not reality. Horrible.

"Isabella, listen." Charlie snaps. I try my best, I really do, but he makes no sense to me right now. "Isabella, you must cut your hair. Cut it as short as you wish. Dirty your hair, bruise your face, take my clothes. Use your skills, Isabella. Use your skills with the swords and they will take you into their lines, I swear to you. You win enough wars, you fight enough battles, and the compensation will be more than enough to get you on your own, to allow you to find a man who will take care of you better than I could. Than I am. Please, Isabella. Please, you must listen."

I nod my head, suddenly feeling very lightheaded, like I was some place far, far away. He spoke of atrocious, horrible things. I could not believe these words were coming from my father. He had said, moments ago, that thinking of me doing men's work in the field ashamed him, yet he wants me to go into war? War is more of a man's job than anything else, or so I was raised to believe.

"Isabella." Charlie said, but his voice was quiet, faint. I couldn't hear it too well.

If I were to do as he wished, then I would be noticed instantly. I would be hanged, maybe tortured before hand, definitely raped. I would be beaten and hurt and in pain, and returned to James to receive the same fate he promised us just moments ago. What was my father thinking? Did he want to hurt me more?

"Isabella, focus."

I could hear sounds of imagined battle all around me. The clang of sword against sword. The feel of the heavy armor, the horse under me, if I were so lucky as to receive one. I could smell the horrible stench of blood and death. I could see men falling by my sword, wounds caused by my hands. I was not capable of that. I could not, would not, do it. I—I—I could only be stretched so thin.

"Isabella, please…"

But it was too late. The world went black, and I felt myself slump from my chair as I fainted.

…E…B…E…B…E…B…

"Isabella…" a faint, soft voice said. I felt a cold slap me in the face and I tried swimming trough the black pool of unconsciousness to the surface. And other harsh hit and suddenly I was gasping, my eyes flying open. Charlie had been pulling his hand back, reading to give me another slap on the cheek. I felt the fire there, the sting. I sat up quickly, the blood suddenly rushing to my temples, and almost passed out again, had I not instantly controlled my breathing.

"You are so faint of heart, my dear child." Charlie chuckled, grabbing my arms and helping me to me feet. I must not have been out for too long, since I was on the floor by the stool that I had fallen out of. Charlie would have moved me to his loft if I had been out longer than five minutes.

I sat down on shaky legs, taking deep breaths, remembering everything.

"Isabella, I am sorry to say all of this at once. It must be incredibly overwhelming…" I swallowed and nodded, as Charlie took his seat again across the table.

"Father, must we discuss this now?" I asked, my voice trembling. "I would much rather be working the fields—"

"Enough, Isabella." Charlie snapped, and I shut my mouth. "Stop being such a child. It is by my fault mostly that we must face this ordeal, and you will never know how greatly that pains me, how much I am torn by that, but that does not matter now. What matters is that we must deal with it. You must grow to an age that far exceeds you physically, and you must accept it, just as much as I have had to except that I have failed you."

I nodded my head weakly, feeling sick to my stomach. Charlie was right. Oh, how achingly hurtful Charlie was right. This was happening now. It mattered not why it came about, whose fault it was, whose fault it is, who is doing it. All that matters is that it is happening now and that in order to live, something must be done.

"Cha—Father, what will happen to you? You said that they called you to old for the flanks. What will become of you?" my voice was barely a whisper and it felt like it was quivering and shaking in the air before us. Charlie looked at me briefly with his brown eyes, the eyes I inherited, and then down at his hands that rested in his lap.

"No." I said instantly, raising from my seat and gathering the skirt of my dress in one of my tiny hands. "No, Father. I will not sit by idly and watch you become some head on a post outside of Lord James' castle! No!"

"Isabella! Stop!" Charlie demanded, but I was already stomping from the house, tears threatening to leak from my eyes. I was walking across the packed earth when Charlie came running behind me and gripped my arm tightly, turning me to face him. "Stop, Isabella."

My breathing was ragged and I wasn't necessarily angry, but close to it. Did he think me so low as to be okay with this, okay with letting my father be murdered?

"Isabella, I am going to give you a choice." Charlie said. A choice. That was a first to me. I have not heard of choices in my life, only demands, expectations. "Either you do as I say, let me do this for me you because I want to, or you get raped and beaten, and die knowing that I hate you."

My breath caught in my throat and on instinct, without thinking, my free hand dropped the fabric I was holding to run from the house and I slapped him. I slapped my father as hard as I could. He let go of my shoulder, his eyes widening and I turned and fled to the barn, to the horses. I fled, and closed the door behind me, and knelt to the ground. I cried while the sweet stench of hay filled the room, and the sounds of the horses as they peeked their heads out and watched me.

How? How could Charlie force this upon me? Had he actually meant it, when he said he would hate me? Just thinking of it sent a pang in my heart. Why would he hate me? I thought about it as hard as I could, fighting through my depression to see his reasoning here.

If Lord James were unhappy with the crop, then I would be beaten first. He would rape me in front of my father, repeatedly, let all of his men have a go at me until I was useless and practically dead. Then he would behead me, stick my head on top of a stake and force Charlie to stare at my decapitated head as he stood behind him and slit his throat with his sword.

That was why Charlie would hate me. Because if I refused to do as he had been planning for however long now, then I would subject him to that. I would have forced my father to not only watch his beloved wife to be murdered in front of him, but his daughter as well. Without the land, the crops, the wife and the children to protect and grow, the man had nothing. He was not even a man. He was less than a man. Charlie would die less than a man and it would be by my choice.

But if I did as he wanted, I would be willingly allowing Charlie to die. I would walk from this field, knowing that if I returned it would be to find his skull on a stake, mounted at the castle gates alongside the other dozens of skulls, who have suffered just fates. And yet, those skulls did belong to the daughters, as well as the fathers. My mother's skull was in that lineup. None of them had probably ever even thought of a possibility such as the one Charlie presented me with.

The man had tended the field in those families. He had failed to grow the crops to Lord James's liking and as the wife and daughter scrubbed and cooked in the house, Lord James had come. And the wife and daughter knew nothing of anything else. They knew nothing other than a woman's duties. And they had died because of it, and they had been tortured and their bodies, now never at piece and never to be wholly untied with their gods because their heads were detached.

But Charlie had taught me other than the woman's duties. I was raised in the fields, the dirt. I knew how to sow the seeds, trade for oxen in the market to plow. I knew how to make the rows according the crop, how to grow them , harvest them, bundle them. I knew how to use a sword. I was good too, would be better if I wasn't so clumsy, but there was no way around that fact. I knew the ways of a man just as much as a woman, and that gave me the horrible advantage presented to me now.

Charlie knew this was going to happen.

He knew it, somehow. When I was young, after Renee was murdered, he knew that his fate, and mine as well, would be the same, for no one was safe under Lord James's power, heir to the Volturi thrown. Charlie had—he had planned my entire life based soley on my survival and not once, not once had he thought about his own. Did he want to die? Did he want to be murdered and lay to rest wherever Renee was? Is that why he focused on my survival, planned the entire thing out, yet left himself to the fate of Lord James?

I felt sick.

I leaned over quickly and vomited the pathetic excuse of breakfast I had this morning on the hard packed earth next to me. I threw up until there was nothing left and even then I just dry heave until I was so tired I collapsed against the barn door, wiping the torrents of sweat off of my forehead.

Charlie wanted this. This was not some whim of the moment decision. I could not fire back at him some excuse involving him not knowing what he was saying, him not having enough the time to think about it. I could not say that when the time happened, he would change his mind, decide to live, because he had had years and years to think about it. Was this what he had nightmares about, on those nights when he would scream and sweat and thrash around? Or was it when my mother—when she—she—

I stood up on feeble legs and pushed the barn door open. The sun melted my face and I squinted my eyes, waiting for them to adjust.

I saw Charlie's tiny speck in the distance as he harvested the crops. Beyond our field was a good mile stretch of nothing, just prairie. I walked along the edge of the road, staring at the never ending grooves of it. It disappeared over the horizon, where waves of heat and dust were blown up from it. I reached the cabin and entered it, grabbing Charlie's and mines sword from the place he hid it, just under the mattress in his loft.

I changed into the clothes he had handy for me, sniffling. I was no where near strong enough to do this. But I had to be. I had to be for Charlie, because a man is not a man when he has no wife, children, or crops.

Charlie had no wife. Charlie had no crops. He only had me. If I died before he did, Charlie would die as something less than what he worked his entire life to be. I had to do this for Charlie, for I loved him more than anything.

I walked back outside, the blisteringly hot sun stabbing into my already burnt neck and legs, and walked across the field, my feet still bare and cut and dirty. I approached Charlie and I sniffed back my tears.

I could do this, I told myself. I had to do this. I had to do this. I had to do this.

I had to do this.

I finally approached Charlie. He stood and turned when he heard me. For a while we stared at one another. His face looked old now. Very old. His deep laugh lines were fading and crinkly. Bags were scarring the skin under his eyes. Thick stubble grew from his chin and dirt seemed to have tattooed itself upon his body.

I threw the wooden sword at him and he caught it on reflex, looking at the thing in his hand for minute before smiling up at me, a small twinkle in his eyes.

"I need to feel a real sword in my hands." I said, surprised by how strong my voice sounded. How even it came out. Charlie's smile flickered slightly, but I did not miss it.

He didn't want this for me. He didn't want me in war. But he wanted it more than my head on a stake. Hell, I wanted it more than that.

"I'm going to do as you wish, father." I said, and this time my voice does crack. His smile is gone now. "I will fight. And I promise you father, from the depths of my heart, that your hand will be guiding my sword with every strike and your feet will be leading me with every step. I do not want to do this, father. But I am going to do this. Because I know it is right."

Something glistens in Charlie's eyes and I pretend he has an eyelash stuck in his eye. That he is not about to start crying.

"Because I know it is right." I repeat.

Charlie says nothing for a while.

And then his smile starts to come back, slowly, hesitantly, tasting the air. And then his sword his held tighter in his hand and he is coming at me.

And I fight with him, with the real sword in my hand, because I believed truly what I had said. Because Charlie has said it was right.

Because I knew it was right.

AN: Hey guys, thanks for the reviews! What do you think of this chapter? I know, a little unexpected. But hey, that's where my story is going so I really have no way of changing it. Sorry if you don't like it. But please review one way or another! They make me happy : )

Anyways, I have the next chapter almost done, surprising I think, for me at least. So that should be up in about a week.

But after that, I think the chapter might come in a bit slower because I've been super busy and its hard to fit writing in but I will do my best because I really like to do it.

Please review!

/3 Justalil'obsessed


	3. Mystery Man

**AN: Thank you to all of those who reviewed! I know i don't get a lot, like, at all, but i'm trying to not let that stop me from writing. Sooooo i hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's kind of a bit longer. But the wait is over, because Edward is going to be entering the story this chapter! **

**Review!**

I worked on the field tirelessly for every day and night that week. Through the day I pull the crops. At night, by candle, I tie and bind them and stack them by the cabin. Charlie does the same. Together, on endless hours, going on two hours of sleep a day, we work. It feels to me as if I am making excellent progress, but every time I lift my head to see how much we have finished, it just looks like the field has gotten bigger. Will it ever get smaller?

Charlie has tried to get me to stop, telling me there is no use. I refuse to listen, and when I continue to work, the guilt eats him and he helps, not liking the idea of his daughter working the fields alone while he sits and sulks in the cabin. I wouldn't have minded if he didn't though.

Several hours a day, however, were taken away as I got used to the sword. Charlie said it seemed to be balanced well with me, the right length, weight, everything. I liked that thought. He gave me his sheath, which I refused at first. I told him I would get my own sword.

"Isabella," he had said, holding the leather sheath out to me, scratched and scuffed. "I want you to have it. I want you to remember me."

And of course I had to take it. I could not refuse after he put it in such a way. He insists on my wearing it at all times, and I wear it when I work the field, ignoring it as it bumps against my leg with every step.

But the week came and went so fast it felt like it just slipped through my fingers. I tried to catch it, but it just flew by me. By Friday I was sweating and dirty and gross. Exhaustion was overwhelming me and at one point I trip over a rock. It's typical, and the pain of falling down not even affect me any longer.

Usually I will stand, brush the dirt off, and return working. This time was different. I fell onto the ground, and I tried lifting myself, but exhaustion works on the body in mysterious ways, and I found myself collapsing back onto the ground. And with each blink to clear dust from my eyes, my eyelids grew heavier. My breathing deepened, the world grew fuzzy, and I fought it. By the gods eyes I fought it.

And I thought I had. Oh it sickened me that I thought I had actually fought it. For I blinked my eyes once more and my muscles were working for me like they should be. I pushed myself from the ground and blinked some more and I was awake.

But something was wrong.

I blinked again and looked around me. It had been high noon not a second ago, and yet the sky was tainted with the red and oranges accompanying sunset. My eyes widened. No! I had not just slept the last day of my father's life away! I felt tears well up in my eyes and I started to stand when I saw them.

The horses were tied to the side of the barn. There were so many of them. A half dozen on a quick scan, probably more if I took the time to count them. But panic had seized me and the horses were nothing to me now. I knelt back onto my feet, peeking my head over the wheat and looking with wild eyes around the field. I saw him, flanked by his best men, at the road. I swallowed that fear. I swallowed it as best as I could.

For kneeling in front of him, not a hundred feet away from me, was my father. Charlie.

I made a silent noise of pain and covered my mouth with both hands to not let any of the sobs sound. Lord James held his sword to his throat, causing Charlie to tilt his head back until he was looking at that dreaded beautiful sky. Oh, how could that sky possibly betray me now? How could it be so beautiful, so enrapturing, on a day like this.

"Where is she?" I hear Lord James spit through clenched teeth. I saw his biceps clench and unclench, saw him shift on his feet. I held my breath, the tears slipping down my cheeks. I shouldn't have fallen asleep. How could I have fallen asleep? Charlie would die, thinking I was lying down in one of the rows, failing him. I must disappoint him to the point of pain.

"She fled, Sir James." Charlie responded, speaking to that endless sky. His voice didn't break or falter.

"You lie!" Lord James roared, and I flinched, holding my hands to my mouth tighter. Charlie though . . . Charlie stayed the same, just staring in that sky. How could he do it? How could he be that calm? "Tell me!" I could see the blade of the sword cut into Charlie's neck as Lord James started to lose his patience.

"She's a child, my Lord." Charlie said his voice holding that same, flat tone. "She fled in fear in the middle of the night before last."

"Why was I not brought aware of this?" Lord James hissed.

Charlie just stared at the sky. "Because, my Lord, I did not think such petty things worth your time. I am sorry for disappointing you."

James' face held contempt and disbelief. He looked out across the fields quickly, and I ducked my head, praying to the gods he had not seen me. "I do not believe you. I believe you sent her away." Lord James said finally, and I thought it safe to look again.

"And if I did, my Lord?"

I held back my gasp. Was Charlie challenging him? Lord James seemed to think the same for his eyes darkened.

"Do not speak in such a tone to me, peasant. You are dirt beneath my heals. You are the grass in which my horses shit on. You are the essence of the whores in which I fuck. You are nothing." He spat on Charlie, much like he had done at the beginning of the week. I closed my eyes. I could not watch this. I could not. I would do something to make myself known and Charlie would die—he would die hating me. So I just held my hands impossibly tighter against my mouth and held still.

"And you, my Lord," Charlie said, closing his eyes and speaking to the clouds that floated aimlessly, unaware of our trouble, above him. "You are the vile sickness in the rabid animals we shoot. You are the sickness that poisons our blood. You are the nightmares that haunt people dreams, the source for fowled pregnancies, for beat children and raped woman. You, my Lord, are the equivalence of something less than a man, and I die happy knowing I have not reached your level, my Lord."

My eyes widened. Charlie—he—he—he just said that. I couldn't believe it. My ears still rang with his words, and I figured they would always ring with them. I hoped Lord James' ears would as well.

"I am going to find her, peasant." He spat at Charlie. "And I am going to deflower her in every possible way. She will beg for me to fill her. She will bare my children. Your grandchildren, you blood, will course through one of my own. And once she is broken and bruised, only then will I slowly detach every limb from her body until she dies, and I will scatter them under the stake in which your head will rest."

I felt sick. I gagged, the sound coming up my throat and I couldn't stop it. I swallowed it back though and watched James, seeing if he saw me, if he heard me. But he hadn't. He still had his sword trained on Charlie's neck. And Charlie just stared at that sky. He just stared straight up there, maybe to the gods themselves.

He didn't seem to have heard Lord James, and this seemed to anger him as much as it pleased him, for he raised the swords. "Tell that whore of a wife she was a lousy fuck." Lord James snarled.

...E…B…E…B…E…B

I awoke screaming and clawing at the night air. My hand flew to my throat. It felt as if I had been strangled. I looked around me, gasping in mouthfuls of cool air, but saw no one. So I hadn't been strangled. And where was I?

I felt the soft soil beneath me and the crops surrounding me at every angle. I stood up. I was still in Charlie's clothes, his sword still hanging against my leg. And then I remembered.

Charlie, kneeling, Lord James, the sword, the horses. The swearing, the staring, the sky, endless, red and pink and yellow and orange the clouds, the gods. I gasped and the tears sprang forward.

I had fainted. I had fainted again. Oh dear gods I had fainted. I fell onto my knees and stared at my hands, covered in dirt. The tears came and I sobbed, watching them splash against the fabric of Charlie's trousers, the ones I had made for him with the fabric he bought from the market. That year had been so good. Lord James had been so pleased with the crop. We ate well that year.

I cried harder. Charlie was gone. Oh Charlie, he was gone now and I would never be able to make a pair of trousers for him again. No more trousers or cooking or cleaning or anything. Because I was to be a man now. Because Charlie had wished that for me.

I stood up, shaking even though it hadn't been that cold out yet. I walked back to the house quickly and quietly. I would not cry. I would not think of how I sat in the shadows and watched my father get murdered as I had watched my mother. I would not think about how I did nothing, for if I did, and then I would lose my mind. I would go crazy and slit my own throat. I just—I couldn't do it.

I stepped into the cabin and slowly changed into my dress before numbly walking over to my fathers loft. His cloak was resting next to the bedding of straw he slept on. I picked it up, holding the rough, course material in my hands. My mother had made this. My father had worn it.

It smelt like him and it felt like her and I hugged it close to me as I walked away from the cabin. I pulled on my father's good boots, the ones he wore to the market. The felt big on my tiny feet, but I didn't mind. I pulled the cloak around my shoulders, grabbed the coin pouch with enough coins to buy me bread and a bed in the next village. There. When I was there I would figure out where to go next. Only when I reached there, though, wherever _there_ was, because for now I was grieving and for now I felt oh so terribly lost.

…E...B…E…B…E…B...

It took two days of walking with no food or water in the blistering heat for me to reach the town. It was rather large, thank the gods, for that meant I would get a good price on the food and bed. I went to the town well, wonder probably painted on my face at how well a town really could be doing to afford such a thing. I waited in line for maybe three hours until I reached there. I used one of the ceramic bowls provided and filled it halfway with water. I drank from it first, just a tiny sip, not satiating my thirst, but getting me by. I then used the rest to clean my face and hair.

Charlie had told me last week I had beauty. Before I was to cut my hair, I was to use it to get what I needed.

I did as he asked and approached the merchants and bartered until I found a loaf of bread for a coin and a bed in a widowed maidens house for two coins. I had been holding the loaf under my cloak in the large pocket my mom had made when I knocked upon her door. She looked so sad when she answered. I must have seemed like her own reflection for her eyes widened briefly before she looked infinitely sadder.

"Come in." she said in a quiet voice and stepped aside. I walked by her, so glad to be indoors even though the only difference between here and out there was a roof and walls. It still felt better to me. "Are you here about the rooms?" she asked.

I nodded my head. "How many coins do you wish for one night?" I asked her, my voice breaking from lack of water.

"Oh dear," she said, her face scrunching in concern. "Come, come, let me fetch you some water and then we can focus on the matter at hand some more, yes?"

I followed her. Her cabin had multiple rooms and I looked around in awe. I had never been in a house this grand before!

"You're house is beautiful." I muttered, walking obediently behind her. Charlie raised me to be polite, and even if he was—I was still going to obey his wishes. She looked over her shoulder quickly and I saw a hint of a smile on her lips before she turned back.

"Thank you." She said quietly.

Her name was Emily. Her husband died in war just two moons ago, leaving her with a house and no children and no money. She has been working as a house cleaner for the wealthier maidens and men up on the top of the hill, by the castle, but that only got her just by for the food and water.

"What flanks, if you don't mind me asking, were your husband a part of?" I asked her softly, nibbling on the bread. I offered her some, but she kindly refused. I laid it on the table though, just in case she changed her mind.

She was beautiful, with jet black hair and a kind face, but the scar running down her left cheek, left there by a wolf attack she says her husband saved her from, frightened the men away in town.

"He was part of Lord Edward's flanks, child. He has been recruiting at the top of the hill for a month now. He is preparing war on the Volturi kingdom, just two days walk from here." I nodded my head, all too familiar with the kingdom. I wanted to close my eyes but I knew if I did the images would overwhelm me so I kept them wide open. But even then tears threatened to drop.

I nodded my head though and swallowed some more bread and water. So that was it then. I would join Lord Edwards's flanks. Just thinking of going against the dreaded army that stood by the side of my father's murderer and just _watched_ . . .

I shuddered and sat back in her chair. "Thank you so very much for the water, Emily, but I would like to speak of coin now, if I may."

She nodded her head and sat up straighter. "Yes, yes of course. I was thinking just a coin for a night? If that is acceptable, I mean."

I fought back a smile. This woman was horrible at bartering! I was opening my mouth to except when I saw the scar again. I closed my mouth. She was never going to have a man, this Emily. They would all run in the opposite direction, for men like the woman that know how to be a woman, but men also like the woman they can show off. Emily, despite her natural beauty, was damaged beyond repair and men did not want that. She was going to be alone forever, forced to take care of her own self.

I took my coin pouch out and retrieved the last two coins. I laid them on the table for her. "Forgive me for contradicting you Emily, but I believe two coins is more acceptable."

She looked at them quickly before looking up at me and smiling. It was the first time she really smiled since I had gotten here. Well . . . she beat me to the punch.

"Thank you . . .?"

"Isabella. But please, just call me Bella." I said, my lips curling up in the corners before I could fight it off. I did not deserve to feel pleased or happy about anything anymore. She seemed to notice this, somehow.

"Bella, is everything alright?" I nodded my head quickly, too quickly. I felt so damn weak when the tears escaped. I couldn't even keep it together for one night!

But all I could see why Charlie kneeling, the blood running down his neck as Lord James started to apply pressure.

Emily was suddenly out of her chair and by my side. Her thin, feminine arms wrapped around me, pulling my face into her bust. I had never been held by another, older, female before and the sensation caused the tears to just pour out harder. Was this how my mother had held me when I was a child, when I was five and having tantrums, when I was four and had a nightmare? Was this how she had comforted me? And this safety I felt, was that what I had felt then, like nothing could harm me and I could just cry forever and she would catch every little tear drop?

"Poor Bella." She cooed as her free hand rubbed the top of my hair down to where it fell at my waist. "You poor, poor girl. Please tell me, child. Please tell me what makes you cry. You cannot be older than seventeen, my girl. What has you out on the streets bargaining for bread and a place to stay?"

I felt the sobs wrack my body and I knew I was weak, so terribly, horribly weak, but I couldn't stop the torrent of words that flowed from my stuttering lips.

"He- he told me I had t-to run away and t-that I had to l-let him die!" I sobbed uselessly, my tears soaking her dress. "He w-wants me to c-cut m-my hair-r and join the flanks a-and I'm s-so scared, Emily! Oh how I am scared!"

I collapsed into torrents of sobs and she held me, soothing me for what seemed like hours. The sun, once high, seemed to collapse behind the horizon, lighting the sky with a far less dazzling, yet still beautiful sunset than what I had seen at Charlie's execution.

"Bella, sweet girl, please calm down." Emily begged me. With as much strength as I could muster, I held the tears back. My face was flush with embarrassment at my actions, of my weakness, but yet I could not tear myself from her grasp. It felt too . . . too safe there. "There now, just like that. Now please tell me what on earth you are talking about."

And so I told her. I told her because I knew that I was not nearly strong enough to go on without one person knowing. I had to tell someone. And she was . . . she was sent by the gods, it seemed, to fulfill my one wish. As I told her my story, my voice sounding numb and lifeless, I thanked them in the heavens.

When I was done I stared at my hands resting in my lap. "You have the sword now?" she asked.

I nod and pull the cloak back far enough for her to see the hilt. Her eyes widen. "You are not lying then." I shake my head sadly. I wish so badly I had been. "I—I don't know what to say." She says. She sounds out of breath, but kneels down on her ankles and rests her hands on top of mine in my lap and stares up into my face. "Oh sweet Bella, I am so, so sorry. All I can do, all I can think of, is helping you."

My eyes widen for a second. I had expected her to try and stop me to tell me I was stupid and that I was a woman and to do such things was disgusting. But she hadn't. For she was lonely, and she was without help and she was scared. And she knew what I felt probably better than anyone else.

"I wish to taste the night air." I said after a while, standing. She stands with me, looking upon me with concern.

"You will return, yes?" she asks. The fact that she sounds so motherly pains me to see she could not have bared any children when her husband had been alive.

I nod my head. Yes, I will return, for I do need to sleep. But I needed the cold night air and I needed to cool off. Tonight was my last night as a woman who knew how to be a woman. Tomorrow morning I would be a man, I would fight, and I would pretend that I didn't know how to cook exceptional stew with freshly shot rabbit. I would not know how to clean clothes or clean a dirt floor. I would have never known of such things, for I would be a man. So I just needed this night.

She let me walk out of the cabin and I entered the streets. Cabins lined either side, crammed in basically. No one kept their horses by their houses, Emily had told me when I questioned her on this. They were kept in the barns by the castle, for there was no space on the peasant streets. I found this odd, since in the Volturi kingdom, the cabins had been sometimes miles apart. But . . . I think I liked this better.

This town was physically advanced, I could see. Wood, not mud, had been used to build these houses. The roads had been established nicely, running and curving throughout the city in fancy patterns. I walked for awhile, not really going anywhere. I paid attention to the bakeries and black smiths to know my way back, but other than that I didn't think of much else.

I found myself looking at the sky for a while, trying to pick out what Charlie had been looking at. Had it been the colors, maybe? Had they somehow hypnotized him? Maybe. Unlikely, but maybe.

I walked until it was dark, but the numerous lanterns lighting the windows of the cabins, accompanied by the full moon, were more than enough light for me. I seemed to be the only one walking though, and I liked that. I liked the privacy.

I looked at the black sky again. Maybe he was looking at clouds? I found myself dazzled by them sometimes, envious of them maybe on perfect spring days. I would lie on my back and watch them, and maybe Charlie would join me, and we would point at them and say what they looked like and laugh. Those were good days.

But what had seen that gave him that courage? When I looked at clouds, I did not feel at all strong enough to speak to a Lord in such a way that Charlie did. I did not feel at all that courageous when I looked at anything in the sky. I sighed and dropped my head, freezing when I saw what was in front of me.

It was obviously some sort of town square, for it was just that, a large opening in the shape of a square. It sat beneath the hill the castle was on, underneath that glorious balcony. The town must gather here to hear the king or queen speak. Or maybe even that Lord Edward. But what enraptured me most was the glorious fountain in the middle of it all.

This kingdom had a town well, _and_ a town fountain. Did the drought not affect them at all? I approached it, saw it was nearly empty and knew I wrong. Apparently the drought did affect them. They just hid it well. The fountain was massive, perfectly round. The edge was curved and I sat on it staring at aqueducts that came in to the center and out of the hands of a glorious angel, clad in wings and a white marble dress. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be floating in the air and holding her hands out to either side of her as if welcoming the people to come to her and love her. A bed of flowers was planted in front of her, by the fountain. I sat next to it, smelling the glorious scents and listening to the bees that sucked their sweet nectar.

I lay down on my back, the skirt of my dress pooling to the ground next to me and tightening against my legs. I sighed. The tips of my hair brushed the water and I left them there, not caring in the slightest. I just stared up at the star polluted sky and at that huge moon, glaring down at me.

I started to hum, not any toon I recognized, just a melody I came up with. I wasn't even listening to myself hum, really. It was just a subconscious way of soothing myself. For once I wasn't really thinking at all. It felt so wrong to be sitting there and not feeling any sorrow, yet it also felt magnificent. I just felt peaceful.

I hummed my toon and sat till, just breathing in the night. A candle was lit in one of the cottages around the square, and I assumed these were the houses Emily had been referring to that belonged to the rich. I looked over briefly, waiting to see if a face would show to tell me to shut up. No one did.

However, I did catch sight of a man standing at the entrance to one of the roads. I gasped and flew into a sitting position, clutching my throat and feeling my heart threaten to burst. The man stepped out of the shadows immediately, obviously startled by my reaction.

And suddenly my heart was racing for a different reason.

He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. His hair, a strange bronze color, was tussled and disarrayed in a way that no one could tame. His eyes were bright and green and held good human and some apologies at the moment. His face was chiseled, with a strong jaw and soft lips. I could see muscles beneath the shirt he wore, strong biceps and I assumed he was just as toned everywhere else.

I looked back up to his eyes, realizing how rude I was being and stood up. Don't stare, I told myself. I found it hard not to though, and a blush creeped up my neck. He walked slowly to a crate set against one of the houses and grabbed the lantern sitting atop it. I hadn't even noticed that light. He must have brought it when he entered the square.

"I'm—I'm sorry to wake you." I stuttered out. I could feel the few wet strands of my hair dripping down my arms and I shivered. "I didn't know I was being so loud."

He misled at me, a dazzling, crooked smile, and I felt my heart flutter. Breathe, Bella, breath.

"No, no, please don't stop." The man said, his voice like velvet running though my fingers. I think I almost fainted. Again. Gah, why was I so weak of heart? "You're humming." He clarified once I didn't respond. "You're humming was beautiful."

I could only stare. I knew how disrespectful I was at the moment, but I couldn't stop. Being with Charlie all my life, out in the middle of nowhere, I never got much chances to be around other males, especially not ones as amazing and handsome as he.

"I-I'm not even sure what I was humming, sir." I said, laughing nervously. Who was this man? I had no idea how I was to address him and the thought made me highly uncomfortable. I would hate nothing more than to offend this beautiful man.

"Whatever it was," he said, taking a step closer, "It called to me from my room and brought me out here."

My breathing caught in my throat as he got ever closer. My feet were planted on the ground and I knew I should move. I have heard my share of men who took their way with woman. Hell, that was the fate I was threatened with every time Lord James came to the field. But yet, I was enraptured my his very movements, his features, his voice. What was wrong with me?

Finally he was next to me, and he placed the lantern on the edge of the fountain. I turned to look up at him, for he was so much taller than me. I took a breath in, and was delighted by his scent. Scent? I had not known men to have a scent other than sweat, dirt, sex, and blood. His though, it was musky, warm, sweet yet spicy. It was very, very nice. He smiled down at me, his glorious green eyes twinkling.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered, reaching a hand up as if he were to touch me. I snapped out of whatever trance I was in just then, and took a step back. He had unknowingly, or knowingly I wasn't sure, stepped on the fabric of my dress and as I pulled away it caught and I lost my balance. I expected to hit the packed earth beneath me, but instead strong arms wrapped around my waist and I was pulled to a firm chest. My breathing caught in my throat. Where I touched him, tingling sensations had erupted and coursed through me. It felt splendid and for a moment I felt like just staying there in his embrace.

But he let me go, probably from my reaction just a moment ago, and took a step back, off of my dress. "I am sorry for frightening you." He said, looking ashamed. I wanted to smack myself. He shouldn't be sorry! He was too beautiful to be cursed with that look on his face now, in his eyes.

"It's alright." I said quietly. His eyes seem to dance with the sound of my voice, or I might have just been fancying myself.

"Please, do not leave." He says. I stay still, unsure. "Just sit with me, for a little while?"

He motions to the edge of the fountain, and I only fight with the logical side of my brain for a minute before I am sitting down and smoothing the skirt of my dress. I make sure my sword is covered by the cloak though.

"What were you doing out here, by yourself?" he asks after a long, yet comfortable silence. I think rapidly for an excuse, then find that I really don't need one.

"I like fresh air. And I like the stars." I answered truthfully. He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel small and ugly under his stare, despite what Charlie may have said, yet he stares at me as if I am the stars, the moon, as if I hold their beauty. As if I am half as beautiful as he is. "And what, if am permitted to ask, were you doing out here watching me?"

I was not sure where the confidence came from, but the words left my mouth and seemed to hang in the air. I blushed deeply, and I thought he would be angry, maybe strike me for a moment, before he laughed in a hushed way so as to not wake any of the sleeping maidens and men.

"Like I said, I heard you humming. I had to see who could make such a beautiful sound." I blushed even more which rewarded me with a flash of his half smile. My heart seemed to skip a beat.

I looked down at my hands. We were silent again for a while. "What may I call you?" he asked suddenly.

"Isabella." I said, still looking at my hands. "Only, if you are so inclined, I do prefer Bella."

"Bella." He sighed, as if tasting the name. "Such a beautiful name. How suiting." I don't think I have blushed this deep in, well, never.

"And you?" I ask, finally looking up at his piercing gaze.

"What about me?"

I blink. "What am I to address you as?"

He blinked. "You are not from around here." It is not a question, but I nod anyways. "Family?" this is a question, and I nod since he has just given me an excuse to be in this kingdom. He nods after a while and looks down at his feet. "Then I do not wish to share who I am. Not just yet."

I stared at the side of his face where stubble was growing. He did not wish to tell me his name? Was he ashamed of whom he was, what he did? I did not wish to push him though, for I could tell this made him uncomfortable.

I looked down at my own feet. It was silent again but I liked it. It wasn't complete silence, for I felt this buzzing vibration. I made myself believe it was in my head, but sane or not, I knew for sure it was between this unnamed man and I. Impossible, but magnificent.

"Bella?" he said, and I looked up instantly, glad to have an excuse to look at him. "This may sound strange . . ." he said, looking at his feet quickly before back up to me. "But I would like to see you again. I don't know why, but you voice, your beauty, the way you blush, it enraptures me." I blushed instantly, feeling it creep up my neck and explode in my cheeks. He flashed me his half smile. "Yes, just like that. I feel very happy right now, Bella. And I just wanted to see if you would entertain an evening with me."

He sat there, waiting for my response. I opened my mouth to say yes, to instantly agree to this miraculous request. And then I stopped myself. Tears welled in my eyes and I looked back to my feet, hoping he hadn't seen.

Tonight, Emily would help me cut my hair. She would help look like a man as best as possible and then tomorrow I was to sign up for Lord Edwards flanks. I could not agree to this. Were the gods doing this to me? Were this their way of making up that favor blessed me with when they gave me that woman, Emily? It was cruel, very cruel, but I would be damned if I went against Charlie's wishes because of a man. I felt like my heart was ripping in two as I stood to my feet.

I couldn't explain it, but this man interested me in every way and I felt like it was a physical need to be around him. I felt like the instant I were to step away, I would be sick with need to see him yet again, but I would have no way of finding him. And that was the way it needed to be kept. I needed to not know of where he stayed for that would ruin my self-power to hold back. He stood to his feet with me, looking hurt. I instantly felt like moving to him and trying anything I could to make him feel better, but I refrained.

"I- I have to go, sir, excuse me." I went to move away, but his hand grabbed my arm to stop me. I felt those electric tingles once again and I gasped. He let go immediately, thinking he had hurt me. I looked up at him, trapped instantly in his gaze.

"What did I do wrong? Was I too blunt? Forgive me." He pled, looking so sad suddenly that it made me want to start to cry.

"I cannot see you, sir. I will be leaving shortly and I wish not to- to acquire any attachments for fear of pain when I have to leave." I rushed to explain, pain tearing through me anyways.

He looked at a loss for words. "You are leaving? So soon after I have found you?"

"Found me?" I questioned. He shook his head, brushing my question off.

"Please, Bella, just one evening. Please?"

I felt so strongly to say yes. I felt the words right there, on the tip of my tongue, and my mind begged me to spit them out. But I bit my bottom lip and held them in.

"I can't sir. I am so, so sorry but I can't."

I turned my back and started to walk away. Every step seamed to tear me open a little further.

"I'll write a letter." He called after me. I flinched. I wanted to turn back so back, so very, very bad. "I'll write to you every day and leave it beneath the flower bed where we sat. Every day, Bella. I swear to you I will until you return to me."

His words pierced me and I rushed, nearly ran, back to Emily's where I collapsed against the wall in the room she had given to me, and forced myself to not cry.

For I was to be a man tomorrow.

And men do not cry.

But I wasn't a man tonight. I was still a woman.

So I allowed myself to cry until I fell asleep because woman were permitted to have suck weakness.

**AN: PLEASE REVIEW THEY HONESTLY HELP ME A LOT!**


	4. Woman minus the Wo

**AN: Thanks for the great reviews you guys! This chapter is a bit longer than the others, hopefully it doesn't bore you guys too much. Next chapter I'm debating on doing an Edward's point of view, just so you guys can catch on to how I want Edward and Bella's relationship to progress.**

**So please I'd love your input on that.**

**Anyways i know how soon this chapter is being posted, and I hope you guys aren't gong to start expecting a chapter every two days. I've just gotten one of those very, very rare few days where I have a day off from everything, like jobs, school ... life pretty much. So i had nothing better to do than write. Anyways, don't be expecting things to be posted this fast!  
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**Review!**

**justalil'obsessed  
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I woke up just before dawn, as my body had grown accustomed to from the farm work. The cows grew restless from the pressure of milk if we waited too long to milk them. Dawn was the perfect time to milk, according to the cows.

I was surprised, however, to find Emily in one of her many rooms, sitting at the table with a tiny cup of tea, emitting a spicy scent. "Would you like a cup, Isabella?" Emily asked, looking up at me with tired eyes as I walked in. I nodded and sat across from her as she stood to prepare me a cup.

"Why are you up so early?" I asked her kindly, trying not to sound rude and prying.

"I find it difficult to sleep now." She said, her back turned to me. I nodded, although she couldn't see. If the man I loved were to die and I was forced to sleep in an empty bed every night, knowing his body was not warming the area next to me, I would find it difficult to find rest as well.

That did, surprisingly, bring up memories of the mystery man last night. He said he'd write to me. Every day. Had he meant it? Had he been honest about his confession, or had he drunken too much wine recently? For some reason, it made me feel better prickles to imagine he was sitting in some chamber, writing by candle light and sealing a letter with wax before placing it in the flower beds.

"So, dear," Emily said, turning back to me and snapping me out of my trance. "When are we going to get started?"

She placed the cup on the table and I stared at it blankly for a moment. That was a very good question. When _do_ I start? And _where_ do I start? _How_ do I start? I looked back up at her, as she stood next to the table. But most important, could I actually ever do this?

"Come, child, let's start with your hair." Emily said softly, taking initiative when she saw I was incapable. I stood slowly. The numbness was spreading. My mind was going blank, and for some reason I was pulling the sword from its sheath.

"Emily—" I said, looking up at her again with desperate eyes.

"It's alright, Isabella." Emily said, placing her hand over mine that held the hilt of the sword. "I'm perfectly capable of cutting hair."

For just an instant my hand tightened on the sword before I let her slip it out of my hands. I turned around slowly and stared at the wall as I felt her grab some strands of my hair.

"Isabella," Emily said softly from behind me, pausing, hesitant. "Are you sure this is what you want to do? I know this was your fathers wish, but there are many other options. This is not your only choice—"

"I have no choice." I said in a voice that didn't sound like mine. "I have never had a _choice_. My life is filled with what is set in front of me, and the paths I must take around destruction. I know nothing of choices, Emily. So yes, I am sure this is what I must do. In no way is this what I want, but it is what I have to do."

Emily was quiet and unmoving for the longest moment and I thought for a moment that she was going to argue with me. But the dull blade of the knife ripped through my hair, strangely painful, but I could hear it tear the strands. Was it absurd to say that in this very moment, this complete stranger was cutting away the last things I had left from my last life?

I did not feel anything wrong with mourning for my lost life. My organized life. No… no who was I joking? My life had never been good before. It had never been organized. Lord James showed up when he pleased, hurt when he felt like it. He killed my mother because the grain was gone, inadequate. He killed my father because the sun destroyed it. He would be looking for me right now because I fled. I lived my life in rippling torrents of fear, never knowing when his horses would round over that horizon, kicking up those ominous plumes of dirt.

I shuddered at the memories. Maybe . . . just maybe this life could be better. I grew up knowing men's life were supposed to be, by law, better than the women's life. Maybe if I were to be one, then it could be better? Maybe. But either way, I had no option. This was Charlie's wishes. This was my only chance. For I knew, in the bottom of my heart, that Lord James would die. And he would die by the blade of my father's sword. I had nothing else to live for. So why not die trying to free my parents souls from the confines of Lord James grasp.

I stood in the middle of Emily's eating room, looking down at the clothes I wore. Emily had given me some of her deceased husband's clothes, and they had been huge, but Emily was an excellent sewer and together we were able to adjust it in only an hour or two. By now the sun was starting to peak towards its highest point. Noon was approaching and I had to get going soon, for according to Emily the tents set on the practice fields would only be set until late afternoon.

My chest hurt, for Emily had helped me bind my breasts down with bandages. It was painful and they were already soar from just an hour like this. But they had to be tight. Men don't have breasts, of course, and that would be an instant giveaway. I had muscles, a lot of them. It was incredibly uncommon for a woman to have the muscles I had. Of course I did not have the heavy thighs that men had. And my arms were not nearly as huge as the man I had seen last night. The mystery man. But Emily said I could pass as a skinny kid who came from poverty. I hoped for my sake that she was right.

My head was pounding and I knew I already had a black eye. Emily reset my nose after breaking it, so it was swollen. My lip was split as well and I couldn't help but pass my tongue over it as well. I remembered, with a little humor and pain to a few hours ago when I had to convince her.

"_Emily, please, you have to do this." I begged, unable to help the annoyance in my voice. She held her steel pan in her hands, a gift she received on her wedding day. She looked at it then up at me._

"_Bella, I don't think I can do it." She admitted, looking horribly sorry. "It's just absolutely disturbing what you are asking me to do."_

_I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. "Emily, you said it yourself. My face resembles a womy too much for my liking. I would be noticed in an instant. I need to somehow disguise it and this is the only way. Now please, can we do this now because I hope to be knocked unconscious but I want to wake up by high noon to be able to move to the battle fields." _

_I raised my eyebrows, waiting for her to make a move, but she did nothing. "Bella—"_

"_Emily," I snapped, cutting her off. "If they see I am a woman, which they will the first instant they look upon my face, I will be beaten for trying to take the place of a man. I will be raped to show my place as a woman. And then I will be handed back to Lord James to suffer the same thing, only ten times worse. He will keep me alive, Emily, to rape me every night until I am nothing more than a sack on his bed. And only when I do not raise my wrist to fight him as he climbs on top of me is when he will remove my limbs form my body, one by one, before he takes my head and mounts it on a stake beside my mothers and fathers."_

_She looked sick. I felt sick just repeating it, but I held back my nausea. "Bella, oh my child." She whispered and looked at her feet. "Please forgive me." She whispered. For a moment I thought she was talking to me, asking me to forgive her for she was unable to do as I had requested of her. But the next thing I knew she was standing sideways to me and swinging the pan around. And for a moment I forgot this was what I wanted and I made to duck out of the way. So instead of just hitting the side of my face as we had talked about, it landed directly on top of my nose, hitting my lip and cutting my temple. I stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, almost comically, once she lowered the pan. But I wasn't seeing her. All I was seeing was converging blackness and suddenly I was out. For twenty five minutes, actually. _

"Emily, are you sure I don't look like a girl? Please, I don't need you to spare my feelings because for the sake of my life, I need to look like a man."

Emily looked at me, shame clouding her eyes every time she looked at my face, but I refused to be mad at her or upset. After all, I practically begged her to hit me. "Your face is bruised enough. Your lips have swelled so they don't look so sleek and curved. You're nose is no longer slender. Both of your eyes are bruised. You hair is chopped. The honey has spiked it in an abominable mess. You look skinny, like you haven't eaten in a while, but I can see muscle."

"Emily." I said, cutting her off. "I just need to know if I look like a man."

She smiled at me. "You look nothing like a woman." She said. I let out a breath. For a moment I had thought this was never going to work. I was a woman, and men in their own right looked nothing like us. How could I have ever passed as one? The answer was that I couldn't. I could never look like a man. But I could come pretty damn close to it.

"However," Emily said, snapping me out of my congratulations to myself. "Your voice does not sound like a mans."

I scrunched my eyebrows, confused for a moment. "Oh." I said, getting it suddenly. "_Oh_."

My hearts started beating faster. Had I really gone through all of this just to be stopped by my own voice? "Oh Emily, what do I do?" I practically shouted.

She raised her eyebrows and splayed out her hands in a calming gesture. "It's not something to be frightened about, Bella. Just deepen your voice. Maybe add an accent."

I stared at her blankly for a moment. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

Now she returned my look. "You never played with voices with your parents or your friends?" she asked, astounded.

I shook my head. "My mom died when I was young. And my father and I were too busy learning the sword or tending the crops and animals. I had no spare time for any games of any sorts. And, I hope this does not insult you, but what are friends?"

This seemed to hurt her more than anything else I had said to her before. I could see the pity flash in her eyes before she shook it off and focused on the matter at hand. "It's really easy. Just make your voice sound different. Deeper. Like this." And she proceeded to say her name and her kingdom in a completely different voice. I stared at her with wide eyes. I had never heard of any woman making her voice sound like a man! It was amazing, really. "Now you try." She said, keeping her voice deep.

"Hello." I said, only my voice didn't go like hers. Instead it just sounded gurgley and stupid. "I can't do it Emily." I groaned, and dropped to the chair.

"Of course you can!" she said, sitting across from me. "Do it again, Bella."

I was about to fight back but the look in her eyes told me not to. It was the same look Charlie gave me when I complained I was too tired to fight anymore. I tried again. It was easier this time. My voice deepened. It still sounded ridiculous, but it was better than that gurgling mess I had last time.

"Let's try an accent." Emily suggested.

"An accent?" I asked, crunching up my eyebrows. "What's an accent?"

Emily sighed. "Of course no one would come out to visit you on your farm." She muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"An accent is just a different way people talk. Outside of these kingdoms, people talk a lot differently. In northern kingdoms, they seem to have trouble pronouncing their R's. In Southern kingdoms, more than a month's journey away, they over pronounce a lot of their letters. It's just a way people talk. We need to find an accent for you. So . . . just start talking in a different way.?

I stared at her.

"You know, just pronounce some of your letters differently. Like this." She started talking again. But instead of making her voice deeper, she just made her letters sound completely different. I stared at her with wide eyes. When she encouraged me to try, I attempted to copy her accent. It was surprisingly easier than expected. "Perfect!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

"That's an English accent." She explained. "Which is perfect. A boat came in about two weeks ago. It was amazing news. Twenty boats left the land across the waters and only one boat was able to make it across. And only about twelve of the sixty passengers lived. It was a sixth month voyage, as far as I am aware. I think half of the passengers resorted to cannibalism at the end. So of course you would be skinny and weak and beat up if you just arrived off of that boat. See, perfect."

I smiled. "But" I said, my smile fading. "Wouldn't I be expected to know about my home town?"

Emily looked stumped for a moment. "You were a stow away." She said after a while. "If they ask any of the other passengers to come and see you to see if they recognize you, you will admit to hiding in the food storage beneath the boats deck. Okay?"

I nod my head, knowing all of this was very shaky. "Okay." I said, using my accent, mixed with the deepening of my voice. She looked surprised for a moment before she broke out in a smile.

"Amazing." She whispered, looking me over.

"Am I all set?" I asked, tingling sensations erupting in my stomach as I stood up. She looked me over one more time, this time her smile was a bit sadder, however.

"Yes, I think you are." She said quietly.

I stood there quietly for a moment before I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She tensed for a moment before hugging me back. It felt oddly . . . complacent to be here, hugged by someone who actually seemed to care. It was nice.

And it ended all too soon. Emily pulled away, keeping her hands on my shoulders as she took a step back. I was surprised to see tears on her cheeks. "You will be returning her tonight, yes?" she asked.

"I do not have money for another night—"

"Nonsense." She said, cutting me off. "I will be honored to have a knight staying in my home."

I blushed furiously, looking down at my feet. "I'm not going to be a knight. I'm just fighting." I mumbled. She laughed at my embarrassment and pulled me in for a quick hug before letting me go completely. She handed me my sword and I hooked it onto my pants.

"Okay." I said, nodding my head. I was really going to do this. I was going to do it. My hair was already cut. My mind already set. Charlie's wishes were already set in motion. I had no way of backing out now. I tried not to smile, for it hurt my face. "Okay if all goes well, then I will see you tonight. If not . . . then you can go to the town square later and watch my public torture and humiliation."

I laughed bitterly and turned on my heal, walking out of the house. It was gloriously sunny outside, beautiful, and I smiled before turning to walk. I smashed my shoulder it some man walking by, smelling of wine and sweat. He turned on me, eyes blazing. I prepared myself for a hit, a beating, for not watching my steps and running into a man. But he just grunted and turned away, walking down the street.

I stared after him.

By god it worked.

I started walking up the incline, my muscles slowly starting to burn. When the rain came, it must have been horrible for those living in poverty at the bottom of the hill. The water must flood their floors.

I honestly had no idea where I was going, and I found myself walking the same path I had last night. I only realized it when I walked into the much more packed square. It was almost shoulder to shoulder as the town's people hustled about to buy bread and fruit. I could smell the bakeries scents wafting through the air and my stomach growled. I ignored it. I had not eaten a decent meal in days, but I did not mind it so much. I was used to hunger.

I paused, and looked at the statue in the fountain above the heads of the people in the crowd. I wanted desperately to walk over there, search through the flower beds. But if there was no letter? I felt ashamed to feel hurt by that thought.

I also knew, however, that if I were to just ignore it and walk away, the gnawing sensations in my mind would never leave me. I would always wonder . . .

So I pushed my way through the crowds until I could see the glowing colors of the flowers. I paused. On a quick scan I saw nothing and I felt my stomach sinking. And on the second scan—for I could not just leave with that one look—I saw it. I could only see the corner of the parchment, sticking out from under one of the vases. No one would notice it just walking by. It could only be noticed b someone who knew it was being left there. My mystery man was indeed intelligent. I looked around me quickly. No one was watching.

I bent down and snatched the paper up quickly. I sat on the stone ledge surrounding the fountain. He had folded the paper into thirds, and sealed it with a wax signature. 'E' was imprinted on the center of it. I brushed my fingers over the crimson seal before I tore through it and opened the letter.

_My beautiful Bella,_

_I stay awake tonight, unable to sleep for your beautiful face keeps appearing behind my closed eyes. Do you not think of me too? I could see it in your eyes, the other night. I could see what I felt reflected in your beautiful eyes. I do not know what I feel, if I am to be completely honest with you. I just know that I am plagued with memories of you face, your glorious blush, your enrapturing smile._

_Please my Bella, write back to me. I wish to see you again. I do not believe I will sleep another solid night without touching you, feeling your glorious skin, brushing my fingers through your hair. Please see me, my Bella. If you choose to, write back. You can leave a note where I will be leaving mine for every day until I am able to see you once more._

_Yours truly,_

_E_

Oh my lord.

I placed my hand over my heart before I could realize how feminine of a gesture it was. I dropped it the next instant and tried to get myself to breath once again. I—I had never had this much affection aimed towards myself. It felt . . . it felt . . . it felt amazing. I felt _wanted_. I felt _needed_. My first thoughts were to run back to Emily's and write letter back to him. I wanted to meet him again. I wanted him to touch my skin, brush his fingers through my hair as he had wished.

But in the next second I remembered several things.

I had not written something in maybe twelve years, when Lord James forced me to write him an apology note for having to take time out of his busy day to rape and torture and behead my mother. After that, I had not written anything. I barely remembered how.

And I could not meet him again. Not now. He could not touch my face, for it was bruised and swollen. He would be not only disgusted, but I would be in pain if he were to touch me. He could not touch my hair, for there was only about two inches of it left, and it was covered in sweet honey.

I could not see him.

My eyes watered for a moment before I blinked away the salty tears. I folded the not back up and stuck it back where I had found it, under the pot. It would be better if we just forgot about each other . . . if he were to think I did not care. If he saw I did not take the letters, maybe he would stop writing them. Maybe he would find another maiden in town, much more fare than I could ever be, and fall in love with her, marry her, have wonderful baby girls and boys with her.

And I would be in war, desperately trying to get close enough to a Lord to kill him.

I stood up on shaky legs and walked away from the fountain. I could not get attached to anything, for I did not count on living for as long as others did. It would hurt others more if I were to get them attached to me as well. And it might make it harder to seek revenge if I knew I were to never see my loved ones again . . . that is why I would choose to never love.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, stopping a man in a dirt covered shirt as he walked by. His face was covered in thick stubble as he turned to me. His breath smelled of stale wine as all men in this kingdom seemed to smell.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice gruph. I looked at him for a moment before I deepened my own voice. I was a man. I had to remember that.

"Do you know where the recruitment tents are?" I asked, laying my accent on thick. He looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"You were on of the passengers who came in on the boat?" he asked, skeptical. I swallowed thickly and nodded.

He threw his head back and let out a roar of a laugh. I just chuckled nervously. His eyes were twinkling and he wore a giant grin on his face when he looked back to me. I looked around me quickly. No one seemed to find his sudden outburst odd. Did everyone just suddenly start screaming laughter around here? I don't think I would mind a kingdom like that . . . He lifted his hand, and I thought he was going to hit me, but instead he just clapped me on the shoulder.

"Pleasure to have you here." He said. "I'm Samuel, from the farm down yonder." He said, pointing behind him down the hill. I nodded. "I'm just on my way to the recruitments grounds myself. I'll take you."

I smiled, apprehension coursing through my veins. He started walking, and I looked over my shoulder quickly, to the flowers, where every bone in my body was drawn to. But I closed my eyes tightly and walked with Samuel.

"I did not know one of the passengers had come to the Cullen Kingdom." Samuel said, slowing so I was walking beside him. He was taller than me, his gate longer. He easily kept walking faster than me so I was forced to practically run by his side.

"I am the only one, as far as I am aware." I said. I blushed wildly, but hopefully the bruising on my face would cover the tell of my lie.

Samuel looked over at me quickly. "How long was the boat ride, again?"

He was testing me. I knew it instantly. Smart man. "I lost count after the firs three months." I said. "But the captain said six months when we docked."

Sam nodded. I passed his first test at least. "Were you one of the passengers who ate your friends?"

I gasped. Well he seemed to like to get straight to the point. "No!" I shouted. "Absolutely not! I am offended, Samuel."

He looked over at me with raised eyebrows. "Of course. My apologies. My curiosity can sometime get the best of me."

I nodded, instantly forgiving, for I had not even been offended in the first place. I wasn't there. I had no right to judge the decisions of those who had been on the boat, dying of hunger, moving endlessly on the water, having no idea where they were. It was foolish of them to have tried, really. No one had ever attempted such a thing. This had been our only way to even know if there really had been anything out there. We did not dare to send boats out into the nothing.

"Your name?" Sam asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"What shall I address you as? Unless you want me to call you 'that English guy'" he asked, then chuckled.

I panicked. I hadn't even come up with a name! That was the most important thing!

"Oh." I said, buying myself some time. "It's Is—Isaac." I stuttered out.

"Well, Isaac" Sam said, stopping to hold out his hand. "It's a pleasure to have you here."

I stared at his hand. I knew I was supposed to shake it. I had never been allowed to do something like this before though. I grabbed his hand timidly and he shook mine violently. It surprised me. He dropped my hand in about three seconds and was walking again. I followed, only now I was smiling somewhat. This could work. This could really work.

The recruitment tents were on the vast open field behind the castle. In front were a series of about three tents. Groups were crowded around them of men from the town. They all wore ragged, dirty clothes like myself. Some also held their own swords like myself. Others, like Samuel, did not.

I watched what Sam did and stood next to him as we waited in the large group. At first I could not see through the men, crowded around shoulder to shoulder. But the more it cleared, the more I saw. I saw about three men in complete armor sitting behind a table in each tent. At least one would get up with a sword, throw one to a man if he did not already own one, and they would spend a mere two minutes fighting. Every single one, save for a few younger, fit men, were defeated by the men in honor. However, not all of the men were sent home. Even if they were on the ground, with the sword placed against the neck in the defeat position, they were accepted. Others, though, that lasted maybe five seconds in which they swung the first blow against the man with the armor were not so lucky. They were the ones sent home with heads bent. Of course if we were ever called to war, some may even volunteer as unpaid men. But only the ones who loved the fight. Those who loved the money would stay on their farms.

Samuel and I were at the front of the crowd in about an hour and a half, arms crossed across our chests and waiting patiently for one of the men to point to us form one of the tents. Sweat had started to form on my forehead, seeping into my cut on my temple and stinging. I hoped they would point to one of us today. It would be too stressful if they closed it now and I had to wait through another restless night.

Sam was chosen before me. I watched him for a while as he talked to the men behind the table. I didn't even notice at first when I was called over, until I heard someone shout. "Ey scrawny guy over there!" I looked over, for some reason. A blonde man was pointing at me with a gloved finger. He also happened to be clad in armor and standing in one of the tents.

"Oh!" I shouted, and pointed to myself. The guy groaned and shook his head while a big muscle man, obviously one of the muscle builders— there was always one in every kingdom. I jogged over to him and stood still for a moment as the two men looked me over.

"I am sir Jasper." The blonde haired man said. He was quiet attractive, I noticed. Beautiful, clean hair, chiseled jaw, obviously a good build.

"And I am Sir Emmett." The big guy said. He was not as attractive, I thought, as Sir Jasper, but they were both knights, therefore they got baths more frequently than anyone else. So they would always be more attractive than any other male in town. Well . . . except for my mystery man.

"Oh, I am Isaac." I said suddenly, as they stared at me. Emmett elbowed the squire sitting next to him, a long parchment paper in front of him. He hastily started writing.

"You have a curious accent." Sir Jasper noted, looking at me closely. "And your face is all beaten up. Have you been in a fight recently? We do not like having men with temper management difficulties in our ranks."

I nodded my head. "I am from the land across the water. I came in on a boat about—"

"Three weeks ago." Sir Emmett finished, standing up. My heart beat faster and my words caught in my throat. Was he going to kick me out? Did they not like foreigners maybe? Maybe I should have just stuck with the deeper voice . . .

"Well damn!" Sir Emmett said, moving around the table and hitting me on the shoulder. I lost my balance and stumbled to the side, almost falling over. He was smiling though, so I hoped he wasn't about to kill me. "I was thinking about heading over to another kingdom to meet one of you fine gentlemen! Now I got one right in front of me!"

I laughed nervously. He was really big. He could just hit me a little too hard and probably crack my skull. I shuddered at the thought.

"Did you eat anyone?" he asked suddenly.

"No." I said flatly. Were men always like this? So blunt? Did they have no manners or decency? Apparently not.

Apparently not.

"Well," Sir Emmett said, sounding disturbingly upset by my response. "It still must have been hell coming across. You guys are absolutely famous! No one has ever made a voyage such as yours."

I smiled and nodded, trying to act like he was complimenting me. He was actually scaring me. He seemed too excited about everything.

"Emmett, calm yourself. It does not matter where he has come from. What matters is he seems to like to scruff around." Sir Jasper said, saving me from Sir Emmett but sending me into another case of lies I had forgotten to think of before. And to think I had thought I was prepared.

Sir Emmett backed away, still excited, and sat down at the table. I looked to Sir Jasper, who stood, expecting an answer.

"I—I'm not welcome in some parts of town, Sir Jasper." I stuttered. Again I blushed. Damn blush.

However, he seemed satisfied enough with my answer. "Where are you residing in town?"

"In a maiden's house. She goes by the name of Emily, Sir." Sir Jasper raised her eyebrows.

"I know Emily." He said. "She makes one of the best stews in town. Sir Edward has hired her occasionally to cook in the castle when other Lords come."

I nodded my head acting as if I knew all of this. My stomach growled and I wished I had been able to have some of her stew.

"Where did you previously reside?" Sir Jasper asked.

"I lived in a tiny, impoverged town, Sir Jasper. Ruled under the Phoenix Kingdom, Sir." I said. This, I had been prepared for.

He nodded and reached behind him for a sword.

"If you don't mind—" I said, causing Sir Jasper to pause. "I would rather use my own. I have grown accustomed to the weight and balance of it, Sir Jasper."

I took out my own sword and he looked at it for a moment before nodding. "Of course." He said, pulling out his own sword.

"Sir Emmett and I are the Lord Edwards first knights. We are his best fighters. We do not expect you to beat us. If you manage to accomplish such a feat, congratulations. But if you do not, Sir Emmett would have been paying attention to your form and skill and we shall base our decision on that alone."

I nodded. "I understand, Sir Jasper."

"Good. Then we shall begin."

I spread my legs so I was in a stable stance and held the sword in front of me, waiting for him to move. My heart was beating wildly in my chest. I may have beat Charlie a lot recently, but he was growing old. I barely had to try to beat him. But Sir Jasper was a young, fit man, who was obviously skilled at the sword to be held in such high ranking.

I couldn't help the nervous flutters going through my entire body. I also couldn't help the snide thoughts that a man would not feel such things as fear, or nervousness.

He didn't move, however, even though I waited for him to do so. Apparently he was familiar with the first rule. He arched an eyebrows at me and I stared back at him straight faced. My muscles were getting bunched, too strained. I saw his jaw twitch and knew he was the same.

Finally, as men have nowhere near the patience a woman does (which may come in handy later, hopefully) he made the first strike. He brought the sword up at an angle and I easily hit it away. I was surprised when he brought it around so fast, though, and I had to jump back to avoid it. He paused for minute, raising an eyebrow as I stared at him. Yes, he was definitely faster than Charlie had been.

I moved my sword in the same manner he had, only in an opposite side, he hit it away, swiping his sword at my stomach, a move that I backed away from easily, able to slice my sword across his chest plate as I stood in a better stance. He looked at me, surprised that I had gotten in a hit, before he came back again, this time harder. He swiped left, right, left, right, down by my legs, to my other leg, at my arm. He swiped for my collars, came down for my ankles, jabbed for my side. I was soon out of breath, slowly being pushed back more and more. I was aware of the crowd moving out of the way as we moved across the field. But I could not pay attention to surroundings. Charlie had not taught me to focus on more than who I was fighting. I knew that would prove troublesome later, if I ever passed this test and was able to move into battle. But I ignored that now and instead just tried to not get chopped up for Sir James was showing no mercy.

Sweat seemed to erupt from every part of my body and my panting increased. I may have thought I had muscle, that I may have been a form of strong, but I was so wrong. This was draining, completely. Sir Jasper was a real man, muscle and stamina and endurance. The full package. I knew I had no hope of ever beating him with brute strength. Which means I would have to rely on brute skill. Luckily I had about twelve or thirteen years of that. Thank you, Charlie.

I pushed his sword back on his next blow, causing him to stumble and allowing me to move to offense. I moved forward, swinging the sword to his side for that was the farthest part of his body away from his sword, forcing him to stay on defense. He was only barely able to block it, causing me to have a small flicker of hope. I started pushing him back to the tent, as he had pushed me this way. My breaths were communing in short pants and the sun was burning my skin, but I did not care. I loved this adrenaline rush. What woman could say they had ever sword fighter with a knight? No one could. No one.

A rock was caught under his heal and he stumbled. I hit his sword arm and his fingers loosened on the sword, so I moved to his side and my sword clanged with the armor on his leg. He gained his senses back and let out a sort of growl as he came at me with his sword raised. I held mine up in front of me to block his attack and our swords clanged together, or elbows hitting each other. We paused there, panting, his sweet man breath hitting me smack in the face for he was a while taller than me. My muscles in my arms were screaming from the strain. He seemed to be putting barely any pressure against my sword, yet I felt like I was holding back a lion.

"You are a good fighter." He panted.

"Thank you, sir Jasper." I said, trying to hide my smile.

"You trust people easy, don't you?" he asked.

I paused. "I am not sure, Sir Jasper. Maybe."

"Hm, I know." He said, before swiping my leg out from under me with his foot and making me land on my back. The breath was knocked out of me and I laid there, un-breathing, as he placed the sword of his blade against my neck. He smiled. "You should work on that."

"Yes, I should." I breathed, suddenly gasping for air. He laughed and removed the sword, holding his gloved hand down to me. I looked at it briefly before grasping it. He pulled me to my feet without much trouble. I brushed the dirt and grass off of the back of my legs and my butt and looked around.

I was shocked by the amount of people who had stopped what they were doing to watch that. To watch me fall flat on my butt. I blushed and followed Sir James back to the tent I had started in, a surprising fifty yards away. Emmett stood up and held his hand out. I shook his, like I had done with Samuel.

"Welcome to the flanks . . .?"

"Isaac." I said. "My name is Isaac, Sir Emmett."

"Welcome, Isaac." Emmett said, and dropped my hand. He turned to the scribe and started muttering things to write down. I turned to Sir Jasper.

"Am I coming back here tomorrow?" I asked, my heart fluttering.

"Apparently so." He said, smirking slightly. "How old are you, anyways? You seem no older than eighteen years."

"You have keen eyes, sir Jasper." I said, dropping my head. "I am of seventeen years."

He nodded his head, unaffected by my young age. "Yes, well, come here at the crack of dawn then. Training shall begin in the back field. Do not be late."

I nodded, and, smiling, I turned to walk away. Samuel came running up to me as I cleared the crowd, smiling and laughing. "That was exceptional!" he cried, hitting my on the shoulders again and again. Was this supposed to be encouraging or something? It hurt, actually. I tried to walk on but each hit caused me to stumble slightly. "I had no idea you were that practiced with the sword. How long have you been fighting?"

"Twelve years."

"Twelve? That is impression for someone of such young age." He noted. "Shall you care to accompany me for a few glasses, or bottles, of wine? Celebratory, of course."

"Oh." I said, shocked. I not only passed as a man, I seemed to have gained the respect of a true man. "But I think I will return to the room I am staying at. I have much to do." I kindly declined.

"Your room? You do not own a lodge here in town?" Sam asked. I shook my head. "Well who are you staying with?"

"A maiden by the name of Emily." I said.

"Emily?" He asked, surprised. "Are you—have you guys—is she your woman?"

I backed away from him, shocked. "No, of course not. She must have twenty years on me. I am merrily renting a room."

He looked oddly relieved by this, and said nothing. I stared at him curiously as we walked through town, passing through the square. "Well, I have nothing to do so I might as well speak to Emily about her famous stew. Do you mind if I were to accompany you to your room?"

I shrugged. "Yes, you may."

We passed through the square, and my eyes were drawn to the fountain, to the flowers. I longed to take the letter and read it again. And again. And again. To know those words were for me. But I refrained. Especially when I saw him sitting there, holding the letter in his hands. I gasped, stopping. Samuel did not notice and walked on into the crowd. People walked around me as if I were not standing dumbly in the middle of a crowd. I stared at the mystery man, in all of his gorgeous beauty. He brushed his hands over the letter and sighed, his broad shoulders sagging. I felt like my heart was tearing in two. I wanted to walk over to him, to comfort him, to make him smile. But I touched my face, wincing from the pain. I was hideous now. Disgusting. I was not the woman he had written about in his letter.

I turned my back to him, but did not immediately walk on. My eyes were tearing up again. I brushed them with the back of my hand and moved through the crowd as fast as I could.

I was only causing myself even more pain than I was already in by allowing myself to care for this man. This man whose name I did not even now. I gasped back the tears and made my way to Emily's house, where I prayed her famous stew was waiting, and where I knew Same was undoubtedly admiring her.

I felt happy for Emily.

She could be allowed to be loved and cared for. I was long past that stage, wasn't I?

I thought about it for a moment. What if I were to write back, say I wanted to meat at the fountain by the moonlight, this night. And what if I were to step out of the shadows by lantern light, looking as I did now. My mystery man, referring to himself as 'E' would be flabbergasted, disgusted, ashamed, insulted.

I walked faster through the streets.

Yes, I was far past the stage of allowing people to care for me, to allowing myself to care for people. I had but one clear intention, and that intention would be clear to me until I was fulfilled. For this was _his_ fault. I could not be loved, could not love, because of _him_. My pain originated from his hand. My fear from his actions. So yes, my intention was very clear, and very obvious.

Lord James would die.

**AN: Next chapter, Edward and Bella will meet once again, only this time Bella will be a man! Haha can't wait to right that one.**

**Review review review!**


	5. Could Have Fooled Me

**AN: Hey guys thanks for all of the reviews! **

**A lot of you pointed out my grammatical errors and I wanted to thank you guys especially because I wouldn't have noticed it otherwise for some reason. It's like if I re-read the chapter enough times looking for errors, I end up just over looking every one of them. **

**Anyways, someone suggested I were to get a Beta and I was wondering if anyone would be willing to be one for my story? It would be amazingly helpful. I'm embarrassed to say this, but I don't really know what goes along with having someone being a Beta to story. I'm fairly new to Fan Fiction ... :/ so if someone could fill me in, I would be extremely grateful. If not though, I'll try to be more vigilant towards the mistakes. Sorry again. I didn't mean for it to take away from the story!**

**Anyways, this chapter has a bit of Edward in it. Enjoy!**

Sam helped me place the thick padding over my head and positioned it so it rested comfortably against my aching chest. I hid my wince as the heavy thing applied pressure to my tied down breasts. They were bruised and red when Emily helped me untie them the other night, after Sam had left. It had been a fun night, do not get me wrong. I laughed with everyone, for Sam really was a funny guy and he made the most hilarious jokes, and I even drank wine to keep my part, even though the taste seemed to soil my mouth. After all, if there is one thing I learned as a woman, men love to drink. They love to drink _a lot_.

I helped place Sam's own padding on his body, even helped him adjust the padding on his legs. We were told, upon arriving at the field in the early light, that we would not receive armor unless we were highly ranked. No, instead, for practice purposes, we would be given padding that resembled armor, protected to a certain extent as armor, and even held the same weight as it. I grimaced at the thought. I would hate to be stuck under this weight while fighting. No, it just cost everyone a lot less to have this made instead.

Once we were strapped in, Sam and I looked around. Everyone seemed to have found another man and just started fighting with them. I spotted Sir Jasper and Sir Emmett easily, as their armor glittered and shone in the sunlight. For some reason they thought it was necessary to wear it. Across the field, however, another knight seemed to have joined. That must have been Sir Edward, I mused.

I turned to Sam and shrugged. "Should we just start fighting?" I suggested.

He raised his eyebrows and eyed me cautiously. "You fight like a knight. No way am I going against someone with such skill as you."

I laughed, and then stopped abruptly. I hadn't learned how to make my laugh into a man's yet and it came out shrill and feminine. My eyes widened and I looked to Sam. Had I honestly just blown my cover?

Sam was staring at me with an odd look in his eye. "Boy," he said, taking a step closer. I cringed and moved back. "I think you just made me feel a lot more confident about myself with that laugh of yours."

And then he started laughing.

I sighed, relaxing, and brushed his insult aside. So he just thought I laughed like a little woman. Okay, I could deal with that.

I moved away from the tree line where the equipment had been thrown carelessly, out to the open field more, and Sam followed. I stopped and turned to him. "Alright, I guess we should just fight unless we are told otherwise."

Sam nodded.

We fought consistently for a good solid hour before stopping for our first break. I learned Sam was a good loser. Every time he landed flat on his ass on the ground, he would laugh, and I would help him stand, and we would do it again. It was only when I accidently cut him that he got angry, which I understood. His temper tantrums were fun, actually, because he would become dangerously aggressive and it made it not as easy to fend off his attacks.

As the hours drew on, however, we both grew tired. I could see the knights as they made their way through the field of swords and sweat. I knew we could not rest until they had approached and surveyed our progress. I only wished we had moved further into the crowd, rather than the farthest edge away from them.

But as we grew more tired and weak, the fighting became less urgent, and we grew more tired. I was able to think of other things then. Like the letter I read this morning.

I know, I know. I am weak, I am pathetic. I should have left it, should have maybe even written back to him—which I didn't—and told him to stop, to leave me alone, that we could never be because I was—am— flawed in so many ways. But I couldn't. For some reason I was pulled, compelled to read those letters. I tried so hard this morning. We walked through the entire town square, even emerged out the opposite end.

But it was then that my chest felt like it was constricting and my heart started to thud wildly in my chest. I knew I couldn't just leave the letter alone. I couldn't just abandon his words, his poetry. This beautiful man spoke as if he loved me, as if he were going to become terribly ill if he did not speak to me, see me, feel me, one more time. And in my selfish, weak, horribly ignorant mind, I was addicted to this, for I felt just as tired and hurt not being able to see him as well.

I sighed, coming back to reality just as Sam's sword came at a surprisingly fast arch towards calf. I made some sort of shocked noise and jumped up, landing my feet on the blade. Sam cried out in surprise as his wrist bent and the blade fell from his hands. I brought my sword up to his neck until he looked up at me from the hunched position he was in.

"What on Earth was that Samuel?" I hissed through clenched teeth.

His eyes widened and looked behind me. "The knights are approaching! Get off of my damn sword you fool!"

I stepped off instantly, and he brought it up at an arch, slicing my shoulder. I was so surprised, so completely caught off guard that I could only stare at him. Well, stare at him for maybe half of a heart beat before the anger took over. He took advantage of my kindness! That was so—so—so _man_ -like.

I brought my sword up ferociously and his eyes widened as he blocked it. I kicked him in the knee cap and he grunted, stumbled, and I sliced a cut into the padding on his chest. I lightly tapped his sword away at his blind jab, brought my blade close to his hand and spun his wrist around at a clockwise circle and then pulled down. His fingers loosened, trembled, and he dropped the sword unwillingly as his hand could not hold onto it any longer. I brought my foot up, to the back of his knee, and pulled towards me so he lost his footing and fell to the ground, onto his back. I placed the tip of my sword onto his throat.

"Tsk tsk, Samuel." I chastised him as he stared up at me, sweating and panting. "You know better than to cut me."

A slow smile spread across his face as I removed my sword and held my hand out to him. His much larger, warmer hand engulfed mine and I lunged all of my bodyweight backwards, as that was the only way I could pull him up. I did not possess enough body strength to do it any other way. He clapped me on the shoulder, laughing, as he stood.

"You just set an old man on his ass, my young lad." He laughed, rubbing his knee. He was looking at the tear in his padding when we heard light clapping behind us. Sam looked up first, and froze. Instantly he straightened his back and dropped his head, hands clasped behind his back.

"My Lord." He mumbled.

My Lord . . .?

I turned around, confused to see who on earth he was talking to. Surly the Lord Edward himself would not travel the entire length of the field to view his men. I sometimes sat on the top of the hill by my old town, when Charlie brought me in to help him with supplies, and I would watch the training on the field by the castle. Lord James would maybe stand out there for ten minutes, look at three or four groups, and then stalk back into the castle.

I did not know any other way than that, so surly my surprise was justified. It was what I found when I turned around that really stopped my heart in my chest.

My eyes widened and I stared at the god like creature standing before me. No. No this could not be real, this could not be happening. He was—he was a liar! A cheat! He deceived me form the very start!

For standing before me was the Lord Edward himself, yet it was also my mystery man.

Stupid, Bella! Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course he was the Lord! He signed all of his letters 'E' and who else had their own signature wax seal besides a lord? Looking back, I remembered him being so clean, his hair disheveled, yes, but far from the grimy, dirty mess a peasant had. Of course he was the Lord.

And I felt just so stupid for caring. For caring for him. So, so stupid.

I snapped out of my trance as I realized exactly who I was staring at, exactly what power he had. I assumed the correct stance, as Sam had taken, and mumbled, "My Lord." Quietly.

Surely he didn't recognize me. Emily and I had gone through such great lengths to hide my appearance. This morning she went to the extent of taking some of the black charred wood from the fire last night and rubbing some on my cheeks and forehead, then rubbing it in to look like dirt and grime. My face was still incredibly swelled and bruised from the pan she hit me with. I was sure I looked nothing like Isabella. I looked like Isaac now.

But the only question important now, was did he see Isaac too.

I could feel his gaze on me, feel his beautiful emerald eyes boring into my bent head and I tried my best to stare at my feet and not squirm.

"Have I met you before, peasant?" he finally spoke. I felt my beating, sore heart melt within my chest right then. I had not known how desperately I missed his voice until that moment. I did not realize how much I wished he would look at me the way he had looked at me that night, the desperation in his eyes to hold me, to touch me. It hurt, to miss it this much.

I looked up carefully, just making sure he was addressing me. His eyes were glued onto me, and I assumed that was a yes.

"I do not believe so, My Lord." I said, applying my accent thick, making my voice incredibly deep. "I just came from the boats across the waters just a few weeks ago. I have not come into contact with any Lord's, until now."

He wore armor now, shining, looking relatively new. He did not wear the simple shirt and pants he had when I met him in the night. His hair, however, remained the same. His eyes, too. Only now they bored into mine with curiosity and confusion instead of whatever had been in there a few nights ago.

"What is your name?" he asked, stepping forward. It took everything in my power to stay my ground and not go running.

"Isaac, my Lord." I answered, staring back to my feet. Lord James was aggravated instantly when a peasant were to look him in the eye. I assumed Edward would be the same.

"You look strangely familiar, Isaac." He mused, staring at me intently and taking yet another step.

I felt oddly betrayed. So this was why he had not told me his name, his title, that night. He did not want me to know he was a Lord. I wished I had known. I would not have let myself feel as I have for him, for a Lord. It would cause pain for myself, and definitely pain for him. Imagine, all of the people in one kingdom hating their king for his Queen. I shook my head. Of occurs I would never be queen. The idea sickened me, and frightened me. I knew nothing of nobility. I knew nothing except that they could do, and did do, whatever they please. They were ruthless and cruel.

Yet Lord Edward had been so nice, so gentle.

I shook all of those thoughts from my mind. Nobility was nothing but stuck up men who raped woman, and killed men, because they knew nothing was higher than them besides the gods, and they had yet to hear any discouragement voiced by them.

"Hm." Lord Edward said, and shrugged, seeming to give up the matter. "I was just watching you fight." He said, changing the subject for which I was grateful for. Maybe I would have Emily apply charcoal to my face every morning.

"Yes, Samuel and I were practicing. We were not sure what exactly was required of us, so I am sorry if we went against your wished, my Lord—"

"Nonsense." He said, cutting my off with a wave of his hand. "I just came to give you my praise. I saw excellent swordsmanship, from both of you." He said, nodding to Sam who nodded in thanks. "But if you do not mind, I believe the whole praise shall go to Isaac here for this fight, yes?"

"Yes, my lord." Sam agreed, and he sounded genuine about it too.

"How long have you been fighting?" he asked.

"For around twelve years now, my Lord." Since my mom was raped and murdered by someone such as yourself, I wanted to add, but I bit my tongue.

He nodded his head, neither shocked nor impressed by this. "Would you care to indulge me in a quick fight?"

I stared at him.

He stared back.

"Excuse me, my Lord?" I choked out.

He smirked. I hated how my heart skipped a beat when I looked at that crooked smile. I was a man damn it! I was Isaac. I was not the easily faint of heart Bella. It was unheard of, disgraceful, if a man were to have feelings for another man. Some kingdoms killed those who felt for another man in such a way. And since I was supposedly a man—for I had not only passed as one, but I had fought and cut and punched Sam multiple times today but also I had fought a knight just the other day—I could not have feelings for another man. I could not have feelings at all.

Yes, my logic was severely messed up. But it helped to not grow connections. It helped me not think of anything other than beheading the bastard who killed my family.

"I asked, if you would fight me." He repeated, slower, as if I were stupid. My blood boiled by his tone but I held back any snide come back begging to be shouted.

"Of course, my Lord." I said. He shouldn't have even bothered asking. For what was I going to do, deny him? He was a Lord. He got whatever he asked. Whatever he needed. Whatever he wanted.

I spread my legs and held the sword in front of me, balancing it in my hands. He, too, was strong and big, as big as Sir Jasper had been. And I was tired. I had no hope of winning, but I could at least try.

He smiled yet again and got into an attack position. He did not wait nearly as long as Sir Jasper had been to strike first. It spiked my curiosity, actually. Maybe striking so fast, so soon, was a smarter decision than waiting, for everyone knew that rule to wait. No one expected that first move so fast.

My eyes widened and I stepped back, blocking his first blow. I soon realized he only moved the first strike to my shoulder so he could graze it easily down the side of my arm as I attempted to hit it away. It cut into my forearm and drew blood.

I stopped and stared at the cut for a moment. Charlie had cut me there, in one of the last times we fought each other.

It was so strange, so powerful, the memories that were washing over me now. Like a bucket of cold water being splashed into your face, they shocked me, paralyzed me.

Charlie, handing me my wooden sword.

Charlie, looking back at me as Lord James asked me to stay behind and talk to him.

Charlie, as I helped him during harvest.

Charlie, as he told me he wanted me to live, for he knew he would die no matter what he did.

Charlie.

Charlie.

Renee.

Lord James

His knights.

A strange, feral growl rose into my throats as the ager physically burnt me. I lunged at Lord Edward, who had been calmly looking at me just moment ago with a look of amusement on his face. I easily wiped that off.

I struck his thigh with my sword and he stumbled, but regained his balance fast enough to block me next swipe, and the next, and the next.

Nobility. They knew nothing of life, of the pain, of tragedy. They dressed in their armor, they walked the fields, they fought with their peasants for their amusement. They raped their woman and they killed their men and they knew nothing, _nothing_, of pain.

I, however, knew everything of pain.

I hit his shoulder of his sword arm, causing his arm to go limp for a moment. I learned that one form Charlie. He showed it to me the hard way. It caused the entire arm to go numb, incapable of lifting for maybe ten seconds or so. Charlie showed me several "pressure points" capable of doing such things. Some kingdoms called it witchcraft. Charlie taught it to me as survival.

Edward looked at me, shocked, as I continued my ferocious assault. He could only attempt to dodge my attacks now.

And then there was Charlie, staring at the sky.

There was Renee, closing her eyes in pain as James backhanded her.

Charlie as he spoke to Lord James in a way that would have had him killed if he hadn't been signed a death warren earlier that week.

And then there was Lord James as he asked me if I would want to willingly go to bed with him, spoke of it as if it were a privilege.

Lord James as he held the sword to my neck, to Charlie's neck.

To Renee's neck.

And then there was Lord Edward, with his limp arm, backing away from me as fast as he could. I could kill him now if I wanted. One quick cut to the front of the neck. Could have been an accident.

Only I would be executed anyways, accident or not. I would be beheaded in the town square. My head would be mounted on a spike in the front. I could not get to Lord James's sniveling little face. And I knew in my rage I was in now, I could kill every noble person who came within ten feet of me and not think twice about it.

I was so angry at Lord Edward. I was so, so angry. He did not tell me. He let me care about a type of man I needed to hate and that infuriated me. Yet to kill him was too much. I was supposed to be a man, yes, but I could not be a monster.

No, I was saving that for Lord James.

So I stopped.

My decrease in advancements threw me off and my ankle twisted. I held back my cry of pain as Edward saw this and took advantage. His numb arm seemed to have gained its strength back and he brought it to my thigh, slicing the skin there. I hissed in pain as I felt the blood run down my leg.

I blocked his next attack, using every ounce of my strength to not let my anger back in, to not let it dominate me like it had. Lord Edward must think that I had just grown tired. He must think he won of his own accord. Otherwise, a mess up like the one I just committed could have me executed, even if I had not indeed killed him. The intention was definitely clear enough. That was, after all, all a Lord needed for conviction.

I blocked his next three attacks, allowing him to close the distance between us, acting as if he had been sullen about it. Men were stupid. I would just have to act that as well. He suddenly smashed the hilt of his sword into the shoulder of my sword arm. I grunted, the pain extreme, and could only duck his next swipe, sidestep the next one, duck the next one. My shoulder ached and throbbed and I knew it would bruise severely, and I would barely be able to move it tomorrow.

After that shot, a cheap one in my eyes, he defeated me without my assistance. After all, it did not require much skill to defeat a man who had no use of his sword. He moved the blade of his sword to the nape of my neck and I bent to the side to move away from it, completely overlooking the fact that this was what he wanted. With the weight shifted onto one leg, Lord Edward proceeded to kick said leg out, pushing me onto my knees.

That was where I kneeled when he set his sword to the front of my throat. I swallowed, feeling the skin rubbing against the tip of the blade, so close to breaking. He moved the blade against my jaw, pushing it up. I looked up at him, into those emerald eyes I had dreamt about.

I hated this intense eye contact. It gave him more of a chance to recognize me. If he did, if my foolishness cost me the revenge of my family's death, then I would die hating myself. And that was no way for anyone to go.

But he didn't recognize me.

Instead he broke out into his breathtaking smile and I felt myself sigh, felt the tension leave my body just from that one look. I pushed all calming thoughts away, scolding myself for getting so comfortable by just his looks.

The pressure of the blade was removed from my neck and I took in a deep breath, no longer afraid of cutting myself accidentally from his sword. He held out his hand, and I had a flash back of yesterday, when Lord Jasper had kicked me down to the ground as well. I smiled at the thought and took his hand.

"Thank you, my Lord." I mumbled, brushing the mud from my knees as I stood.

"You fight exceptionally well." Lord Edward mused. My heart started to go wild in my chest from the sound of his voice. I winced.

I nodded my head and forced myself to move into the position of submission, feeling foolish and insulted now. I did not want to bow to this man, but I had no choice.

"Hm," Lord Edward hummed, and I looked up, curious, to see him examining me. "You are being moved to instructor, starting tomorrow. Sir Jasper, or Sir Emmett, will assign you a group. Just show them what you know."

My mouth dropped open. "I—I—Are you sure that is a good idea, Sir Edward? I am not aware completely of this lands fighting tactics yet." I stuttered.

"Of course I am sure. Are you trying to doubt my decisions?" his face turned suddenly serious and I gulped. Lord Edward could be seriously intimidating if he so inclined.

"Of-of course not, my Lord. I would be honored to serve you." I muttered. I saw him smirk at me before I dropped my head to look at the ground. Damn this. Why could the butterflies not leave me stomach? Why would my heart not stop beating this fast? And why, deep down inside of me, did I desperately wish he recognized me?

"You shall come in before sun up, then, to receive your orders. Do not be late, Isaac." Lord Edward said. He walked away, moving with authority and pose, his sword swinging against his hip. I watched him walk, with more emotions in my eyes than a man should hold for another man. I shuddered at the thought. Thank the gods I was a woman, if only for this situation.

I turned to Sam, and asked if he would like to accompany me back to Emily's, but he kindly refused, saying he would come for dinner. I smiled at that and nodded before I walked from the field.

I walked as fast as I could, nearly ran. I entered the court yard quickly. And just because my anger was still clouding my judgment, I stalked over to the flower bed and kicked a vase. Curious glances were shot my way as they clay shattered and soil was spread. I looked down, and saw the edge of a new letter.

I stared.

And stared.

Then I sighed. I stooped and picked the letter up and sat on the wall of the fountain.

And I read.

**EPOV**

That was . . . peculiar. I rolled my shoulder, wondering how on earth Isaac had made it go numb like he had. That could be useful. I should be angry. I knew I should be. And with anyone else I would have punished them, maybe even executed. I could see every thought run through his head reflected in those eyes. He had looked murderous. And I was ashamed to admit it, but I had been a little frightened. But what impressed me the most was the unimaginable anger that I had seen. It was . . . it was amazing. I had never seen a man hold that much passion for one emotion before. Yes, I had my temper tantrums, so did my brothers Emmett and Jasper. But I had never seen anything such as that.

And to make the situation all the weirder, I knew him. I knew him from something and I was so sure of it that no person could persuade me differently. There were several types of familiarity. There was the familiarity where you spend your free time thinking of how you knew them for your amusement.

And then there was the familiarity that would drive you mad until the day you died if you were not to figure out where you knew them. I had no doubt in my mind I had seen Isaac before. I just couldn't think of it. He was from the land across the seas. He had not lived here for his whole life. Maybe I had passed him in town? No, I do not believe I would recognize him so strongly if I had only just caught a glance of him. I must have had some discussion with him. But I knew if I had talked to one of the visitors, I would remember. They were legendary now. I would not forget such a thing as meeting one.

The fact that I was still not angry only confused me more. Maybe it was the skill Isaac showed. I watched him fight the other peasant, Samuel I think his name was. They were being lazy, tired I assumed, and I was only going to just walk by them. I had no intention, no reason, to stop.

But then Samuel saw me, and he struck at Isaac. Then it grew amusing as Isaac easily disarmed him and held the sword to his throat. That was why I originally stopped. Then the cheap shot Samuel threw at Isaac caused me to not only stop, but to watch. He had talent, this Isaac kid. Natural talent, I could see. Only he was clumsy. I saw his feet slipping and sliding across the ground. He had incredibly small, dainty feet, I noticed.

But still, he was good.

I didn't expect him to go mentally insane on me as I fought him, however.

And I didn't expect to like the kid. He had spunk, I decided. I liked that.

I walked away, leaving Isaac looking slightly sick and Samuel just looked to be in shock.

I moved to Jasper, who sat on a rock alongside Emmett. They shared water together. It was extremely hot in the armor, and it was easy to not drink enough water and pass out. I didn't stop as I passed, only shouted over my shoulder.

"I want that kid, Isaac from across the waters, set up as an instructor starting tomorrow." They stared at me with wide eyes, as if I were crazy. Hm, maybe I was.

But I knew it. I knew there was definitely something about Isaac.

I couldn't figure it out, but I knew I would not stop until I did.

E…B…E…B….E…B…E

I stood with my shoulder resting against the door frame, watching Alice stumble about, picking up shirts and then throwing them down onto the stone floor a second later.

"Alice, I think I might just where this." I said finally, standing up straight and pointing to the clothes I was wearing presently.

Alice froze and turned to me, a look of horror painted against her face. "Edward, you _slept_ in that last night." She gasped.

"Well I don't always sleep in it." I said, defending myself. "I was just too tired to change. Anyways, I will have it washed by the end of this week."

Alice shook her head and started muttering under her breath, moving back to my clothes. I sighed and turned and moved over to my bed, sitting upon the straw mattress and began pulling my boots on.

"Edward?" Alice called, her back still to me.

"Yes Alice." I sighed.

"Why were you so tired anyways?"

I froze, my boot halfway to my left foot. I cleared my throat quietly and pulled it on all of the way before answering her. "I was going over battle plans with Jasper." I lied easily.

"Really?"

"Yes Alice, really."

She stopped looking through my clothes once more and I could suddenly feel her eyes burning into the side of my head. I ignored her as best as I could. "Hm." She said, slowly strolling over to where I sat as I reached for my right boot. "That's odd, Edward. Because I believe Jasper joined me in our room around twilight the other night."

I gulped and tried to ignore her once more. It was more difficult this time.

"You want to know something odd Edward?" she asked, plopping herself delicately onto the mattress next to me and resting her clasped hands into her lap, atop her light blue embroidered dress.

I sighed and finally turned to her. "Yes Alice, I would love to hear something odd."

She smiled and I wished I hadn't said anything. "I believe I saw you sitting in the courtyard last night. And the night before. You know how I love to water the plants on the balcony before I sleep."

Oh.

Oh shit.

I winced. I had completely forgotten her odd fascination with keeping every flower alive for as long as possible within the castle. Stupid, Edward. Stupid Stupid Stupid.

"I believe you have me mistaken for a peasant, Alice. That's insulting." I snapped, standing to my feet and she was quick to follow.

"No, I don't think I mistook you. I believe you were doing something by the flower beds, yes? Does that have anything to do why you have been so moody lately?" Alice chirped, following me as I left the room.

"No Alice. I'll tell you again. I was not in the courtyard the other night." I all but shouted.

"Oh, yes you were. I saw you." Esme said suddenly, moving out from the sewing room. She fancied herself in sewing and embroidering in the morning for some woman's stress relieve tactic. I had always been confused by this. She was Queen. She did not have to trouble herself with sewing. She held a cup of tea in her small hands and smiled kindly at me as I jumped from her sudden appearance.

"Mother, I do believe you have me mistaken." I said desperately, moving forward from the two woman as that hackled me. How had I let _two_ of them notice? Stupid, Edward.

"No, no I do not believe I mistook my son for a peasant." Esme said. She sounded insulted by the fact that I would believe such a thing, and a pang of sorrow shot through me, as tended to happen whenever I have hurt my mother.

"But Esme, I wasn't in the—"

"Hush now, Edward." She scolded me. I quieted instantly, as if I were a child yet again. "Alice and I saw you just the other night. I accompanied her to the balcony. You were sitting by the flowers. Do you care to enlighten us in the matter?"

I scowled and walked on, moving through the open archway into the courtyard. "No I do not." I said roughly, moving around the small fountain in the center.

"Edward." Esme said calmly.

"_Edward_." Alice whined.

These woman were so annoying!

"Edward, son, stop." Esme said suddenly. I walked on. "Edward _stop_!"

My steps faltered, shocked by her tone. I looked back at her, at the stubborn look in her face. Even Alice was looking at her with raised eyebrows. "Sit down." She said, pointing to a stone bench placed against one of the low stone walls.

"Mother—"

"Edward, do not test my patience."

I looked down at my feet and moved to the bench. Behind me was the hallway that stretched around the entire perimeter of the courtyard, the ceiling held up by stone pillars attached to the stone wall. I hated sitting here for my back was facing openness, so anyone could come up behind me and I would never even see them.

I shuddered, thinking about it, as I sat down. Esme sat down beside me and Alice sat on my other side, upon yet another stone bench.

"Edward, dear, please tell me, or else I will have to lock you in your room for a week." Esme asked, looking sympathetic. I stared at her, and then looked to Alice quickly. Of course there was no support there. I sighed, dropping my shoulders.

"It's a girl." I muttered.

"A girl?"

"Yes, Alice, that is what I just said." I snapped.

Esme swatted me on the back of my head. "Hush now, Edward. No need to yell."

"Sorry." I mumbled, looking at my feet. "I saw her in the courtyard a few nights ago. I couldn't explain what I felt, but—but I feel really drawn to her. I wanted to touch her face, her hair. But she left. She stood and said she had to leave because she was only staying in the kingdom for a short while. And I told her I would write to her. Every night. I would leave the letter by the flowers. Every single night, until she wrote back to me, and I could see her again."

We were all silent for a while.

"Oh Edward." Alice breathed. I looked over to her and she was holding a hand to her heart, her eyes wide and watering. "I am so sorry for ever calling you a heartless bastard. I'm so, so sorry."

I forced myself to snort. "it's fine, Alice."

"Son." Esme said quietly. When I looked at her she was looking at her hands. "You know the Denali's are coming at the end of the next week."

I winced. Yes, I knew. Alice had been trying to find clothes for me to wear for such an occasion for months. She's had our servants sewing clothes for hours on end, yet none of them were good enough, according to her.

"I do not wish to untie our kingdoms, Esme." I muttered.

"I know, Edward. And you do not have to. I just ask you to fancy Carlisle and listen to them when they come."

"Will Tanya's brother be along as well?" I asked.

"Yes, I do believe he will be."

"Is that honestly necessary? I do not think he needs to be here to discuss such things."

"Of course he does, Edward. He will be the future king of the Volturi kingdom. He needs to know the terms of our kingdoms tie."

I sighed. I would listen to them drone on and on about my taking of Tanya's hand, yet I would do no such thing. Not while Bella had trapped my thoughts. Never again would I love another like hers.

Especially not Tanya. She was a spoiled brat, always living behind the shield of her kingdom and her nobility.

But if there was anyone I despised more than her, it was her brother. And the sly bastard would be here, in my kingdom. It sent chills down my arm. When I traveled to his own kingdom three harvests ago, I saw how he ran his kingdom. He did not deserve his title, yet he was born into it.

I hated knowing Tanya would be staying in this castle.

I hated even more hat her brother, Lord James, would be as well.

And I only had a mere two weeks to prepare myself mentally for this ordeal.


	6. confusion

**AN: Wow, ok, I really did not expect this chapter to take so long to write. I just kept deleting the stuff I wrote because it didn't sound good enough. I'm still not okay with it but it's been almost two weeks now... I'm sorry if it's confusing, because I switched point of views a couple times, but that seemed to be the only way I could write this part of the story. **

**And a couple of you guys reviewed it about my Beta question, but I couldn't respond because you had your private messages disabled so I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to think I was ignoring you.**

**Anyway, sorry it took so long. Enjoy!**

**BPOV**

"I can't believe him!" I exclaimed, for the thousandth time as I paced the interior of Emily's cabin. She sat at the table, her legs crossed underneath her skirt, watching me with an amused expression. "Who does he think he is? He just waltzes in to my life and blows me away and it turns out he is a Lord! He is going to be king! Why does he even fancy himself with a peasant anyways?"

I groaned and kicked dirt on the ground. My ankles throbbed from the blisters forming and I sat myself down and ripped the boots off. Emily was on her feet the next moment, knowing the routine. I take the boots off, she helps me clean the bloodied patches of skin, and then we usually eat.

"Yesterday he tells me I am to be an instructor, can you believe that?" I ask, pulling my other boot off and watching Emily as she grabs a bowl. She paused at the door to look at me with raised eyebrows. "Yes, exactly. He just does a little sword fight with me and decides I have nothing better to do than just follow his orders. He had the nerve to ask, too, assuming I even had the option of saying no. He was a Lord. What say do I have in anything?"

She smiled at that. "Hold on one second, I need to pump some water." Emily said quietly, leaving me alone as she moved to the town well. I sat in the middle of her sitting room, fuming. Eventually I pulled myself onto a messy wooden stool against a wall and massaged the soles of my feet.

Emily returned just five minutes later. The line must have been extremely short. Then again, it hadn't rained in over a week so they had started charging peasants for the water, so less would be waiting, for many would only pay when they absolutely needed to.

"What does he expect you to do, for training I mean?" Emily asked as she knelt on the ground and soaked one of her rags in the water.

I snorted. "That's the other thing. I go in early this morning, because Edward has asked me of this yesterday before he just walked away. I met with Sir Jasper and he just assigned me a group of thirty men or so and just told me to watch them and fix anything that looks wrong with their fighting. Easy enough." I shrugged and then hissed as she placed the rag on the bleeding, rubbed off skin. She gave me an apologetic look before returning to her cleaning. "Anyways, I was doing great and I was proud of myself because I had been so nervous before. And then Lord Edward comes in and requests to fight me!"

Emily glanced at me skeptically. "Lord Edward asked to fight a young English peasant?"

I scowled and took the rag from her hands. "Yes, he did. And of course I cannot defeat him for he is a Lord. He has flaws in his movement, but I cannot point them out, and I cannot take advantage of them. Instead I must act like I had purposely hit his shoulder, even though his sword was already by my side. Or I had to over exaggerate my stumble if I step on a rock. So I am proving myself to the group of men I must train and he comes in and knocks me on my ass and I cannot do anything about it! Because he is a _Lord_ and that makes me so angry!"

I all but growled as I folded my leg onto my lap and started roughly cleaning the blood away. Emily moved to grab another bowl to start grinding the roots up she had gathered the other day.

"Well, why don't you write back?" Emily asked, her back to me. I paused, but only momentarily.

"That is out of the question." I said, shaking my head. "That will make a stronger connection that I cannot risk."

I saw her shoulders drop as she sighed. "Bella, you are already going to see him every single day in person. Why does it matter if you write to him? That seems like a step down from person to person contact, if you ask me."

This time I paused longer.

"But in person, I'm Isaac to him. If I write, then I become Bella again and I have to ignore her." If anyone had been listening to this conversation, I probably would have sounded crazy.

"Who are you right now then?"

This time she did turn around and look at me. I stared back at her, lost for words. "Exactly." She said quietly before turning back to her bowl. "Write to him and tell him to leave Bella alone. Tell him to forget that part of you. Once he stops speaking to Bella, it may be easier to be Isaac, at least around him. After all, it seems like he would be the most likely to recognize you anyways."

I stayed quiet as I squeezed the bloody water from the rag and then wetted it again, moving to the other ankle.

"Do you have any parchment." I muttered after a long, long pause.

She turned back to me, smiling, with the roots, now ground into a paste, and bandages in her hands.

"Of course I do." She said, moving to me, and after my blisters had been dressed, I wrote.

**EPOV**

'E'

_**Or should I even continue to call you that, to think of you as my mystery man? No, I think not. You have deceived me, and in the process, have hurt me deeply. I trusted you as a man who coincidentally came across me in the middle of a courtyard. I thought about you too, my Lord. I thought about you and I dreamt about you, just as you say you have of me, only I thought of you as a harmless peasant, much as myself. Is this how you find joy in life, by making young woman swoon over your handsome looks and calming voice? Do you do this every night? Just come up to woman visiting the kingdom and know in your heart that they dream about you and think about you in every moment of their free time? Does this erg your ego on? I do not want to speak to you again. I cannot, for I am furious and I hate feeling this way. I was fooled in to caring for you and now I refuse to do so any longer. You will be nothing to me, and I will force myself to forget your voice and your hair and your emerald eyes. You will become nothing to me, so stop writing me letters. I do not want to meet you again. I do not want to read your letters. I hate that I still think of you yet there is nothing I can do. The only thing I can think of is just ignoring you, and cutting all connections so I have no reason to ever think of you.**_

_**Goodbye, Lord Edward.**_

_**Regretfully yours,**_

_**Bella **_

_**Isabella**_

I stood in my study, standing at my table with the letter open in front of me and I just stayed still, staring at it. My heart was hammering within my chest.

She had written back.

A smile broke through my stunned face and I fought the urge to jump in the air and cheer. Because she hated my very existence, obviously. I should have told her I was a Lord from the start, but I didn't, and I can't change that, so I'm just going to have to work around that. It was the fact that she had actually taken the time to voice that hate that made me happy.

She had just admitted to thinking about me, too. She even remembered the color of my eyes, maybe as vividly as I remembered hers. Sure, she wanted to forget me, maybe she wished me dead, but I wasn't going to focus on that. I was going to focus on her.

I snatched the letter from the table and ran from the room, to the sewing room, for it was still early morning. I leave, maybe about dawn, every morning to leave my next letter and to see if she had possibly wrote back. I almost had a heart attack when I saw the crumpled, ripped, soggy piece of parchment paper shoved under the flower pot this morning. Of course she had little paper. It was a rare thing to come across in this kingdom, for few of my people knew how to come across it. Traders had been scarce, too, since the rain had not come. Next time I would leave paper for her, for I knew now that she had given in to the desire to write back that she could not stop, just like I could not give up writing to her every morning despite her silence. Maybe I was delusional…

I found mother and Alice in the sewing room, just as I had thought. Esme was the only one sewing, while Alice giggled and told stories at her side. They both talked to the female servants as they sat at their own table, sewing their own cloths, creating their own fabrics. They all seemed to pause and look when I entered the room.

The servants looked down at their work instantly, their faces flushing from even looking at me, a Lord, if only for a second. I moved forward into the now silent room, towards the scowling Alice who no doubt was angry for disturbing the obviously long gone good mood in the room.

"Edward, must you just barge in?" Esme sighed, looking up at me with exasperated eyes from her sitting position. I thrust the paper in Alice's face, then hers, ignoring her question.

"Son, get that out of my face." Esme said, annoyed, moving her face away from the thing. I brought it back a little, but still held it out. "What is it?"

"She wrote back." I said smugly. After I told them of Bella, they had continuously tried to ease me into the mindset that she might not write back and I should stop, for I was only hurting myself. It was so easy to ignore these suggestions that I was almost surprised. But I had proof now, and it felt good I could rub it into their faces.

Alice snatched the letter from my hand instantly, and I instinctively went to grab it back, but stopped. They just wanted to read it. They weren't taking my only piece of her I had. Alice read it quickly, her eyes darting all across the page. When she reached the end she just stared at it for a moment longer before Esme reached over and gently grabbed it, she too reading it just as quickly. Then they both were silent.

"Oh Edward." Esme said quietly, looking up at me with sad eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked, confused.

"Edward, we tried to tell you this was going to happen—"

"Wait," I said, holding my hand up and cutting Alice off mid sentence. "I know what you guys are trying to say, and I'm just going to stop you there. She wrote back! And yea, she says she hates me and everything, but that's not the point. And whatever, she doesn't want to see me ever again and she is going to try and ignore me and forget everything about me. But . . . _she wrote back_!"

I looked back and forth between then, smiling, waiting for any positive reaction that never came.

"Edward," Alice mumbled, looking at me in a concerned way. "You're kind of crazy, don't you think?"

My face fell in to a scowl and I snatched the paper from my mother's hands. "Fine, whatever. In a week's time she will be sending five letters a day, begging to see me as I have for her. Just wait."

"Wait?"

I froze. Carlisle was standing in the door frame, his crown resting comfortably atop his blonde hair. "Wait for what?"

"Nothing, father." I said quietly, bowing my head. "We were just talking about the—the English man who I just promoted to instructor."

Carlisle looked at me for a moment with blank eyes before looking over my shoulder at Alice and Esme. I closed my eyes. They would never be able to lie to Carlisle.

"Alice, dear." Carlisle said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "What are we waiting on the English gentlemen for?"

"He's actually a peasant, father, b-but we are waiting for . . . for him to, um, for him to learn the bow before we fit him for armor." I winced. That was way too scratchy and chopped. He would never believe it.

"Esme?" he asked. I just gave up then and there. Esme was a clean hearted, kind woman. She could never lie, unless it meant protecting her family. But this was not important to hide, to my own survival, anyways. She would not even bother lying to Carlisle. Alice and I would be punished as it was for even trying.

"Edward has met a woman." Esme said quietly. I did not blame her for saying it. She was a woman. She must respect her husband and do as he wishes, or else she has failed her entire existence.

"A woman?" I sighed and opened my eyes to look at Carlisle as he stared at me with raised eye brows. "And who might this woman be?"

I swallowed thickly, preparing myself. "Bella. Isabella. She's a- a peasant."

His eyebrows lowered and he sighed, shaking his head and stared at the stone floor. "Oh Edward." He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Come with me."

He turned and walked from the room. I looked back at Alice and Esme quickly, who just looked guilty. Alice mouthed the words "I'm sorry", but Esme didn't even need to say that. It was clear enough in her eyes. I sighed once more and followed my father out of the room, closing the door behind me, knowing the servants were all staring at me as discreetly as they could.

I followed Carlisle into the room behind the thrones, just a small stone room with a wooden table assembled in the middle. Carlisle took his seat at the head, crown gleaming, and I assumed my position to his right. He sighed, and then folded his hands together on the table in front of him. I tensed, waiting for the verdict.

"Edward, what is this?" he asked after an excruciatingly painful silence.

I swallowed thickly. "I can't explain it father." I said quietly, looking at my hands that rested in my lap. "I heard her in the courtyard some moons ago and I couldn't resist. I went to see her. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since."

Another silence.

"Edward, you know Princess Jessica is visiting the week after this, yes?"

"Yes father."

"And was I not clear enough in any way of what is to be discussed in the visit?"

"No, father."

"Then why, Edward? Why must you do this? Is it to aggravate me, or hurt your mother?" I shook my head vehemently, but he would not allow me to speak. "Son, I am filled with grief knowing the burden resting on your shoulders, but you are soon to be king. The crown that rests on my head will be yours and when it does, do you want all of your people staring with you with hate as Lord James' army's storm our kingdoms and kill all of our children? Do you want that, Edward?"

"Of course not, father." I said instantly, bowing my head further.

"Edward, look at me." I did. "I have spent years upon years looking at every possible scenario where this does not happen. But there is none. Trust me when I say this, but if there had been a way out, I would have found it and taken advantage of it a long, long time ago."

"But father," I said, taking an opportunity to speak when he paused for air. "The army, I am assembling it. You will be surprised by the amount of men I have recruited. We could have them prepared in just a few months—"

"They will surge our castles, Edward, in a few weeks time." Carlisle said in a quiet, resigned voice, and dropped his tired face into his callused hands. "Do you not hear their threats as clearly as I do whenever they voice them? Do you not trust them when they say they will enjoy killing our people? As king, Edward, the one and only task you must ever accomplish is protecting your people. Your kingdom itself does not matter until your people are safe. Why else do we get the riches, the clothes, the food, water, and baths? If we do not serve our people in the way we were born to serve them, then these things are meaningless and we are being rewarded for failing the gods themselves. I must do this Edward; you must do this, because it is for the people.

"Forget about the girl, Edward. If we had been prepared long ago, if we could have surged their castles now and we had a sliver of a chance of defeating them, I would urge you to do it, to seek after this woman in whatever means you wanted. But we are not. I will think tonight, maybe tomorrow, maybe for a few days or weeks, if you had actually been in love with this woman, a peasant no doubt, but that does not matter, and it pains me greatly to think that it doesn't. All that matters is the people. And if this woman is among those, then you are protecting her as well. Do you understand, son?"

I was silent for a moment before I cleared my throat and looked up at Carlisle. His eyes were so tired, I could see bags hanging deeply and heavily and he looked sad and beaten. I did not like seeing the king, my father, in such a state. I did not like to think he felt just as terribly about this entire situation as I did, for it only pained me greater. This was wrong, and this should not be happening. We treated our people fair and with kindness and decency. So why were the gods punishing us, rather than rewarding us? Why must we unite the kingdoms, share my people with Lord James?

I nodded my head at him before standing. Carlisle stayed seated, and I left him there, staring at his hands. The letter was still in my hands, and I didn't realize it until I entered my study and unclenched my fists, letting the crumple paper fall from my grip.

I sat heavily into my chair and held a fist to my chest, right over my heart. It hurt. It felt like someone was tugging me in twenty different directions, and I was stretching and tearing and I could do nothing of it. Carlisle had mentioned me loving Bella. Had I? Did I? I shook my head. If I admitted something such as that to myself, it would surely lead to my damnation, and the people of my kingdom as well.

I pushed the letter to the end of the desk, intending to burn it later. Carlisle did not want me to see Bella. He was king. He may have been my father, too, but he was still king, and I still had to obey his wishes. But that was not the reason why I decided to be gone with the thoughts of the mysterious girl I met in the middle of the night, whose hair shone with the moonlight, whose voice carried in the breeze. I rid myself of those thoughts, because according to the letter, to what Alice and Esme had tried to tell me, she did not want to see me, either.

…E…B…E…B…..E…B…E

**BPOV**

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

It rained Saturday. The clouds had been accumulating for two days now, and finally had decided to let go off their abundant load. I had been in Emily's kitchen at the time, sitting at the table, sulking, when I heard the first drops hit the roof. Together, Emily and I raced outside and stood in the rain as it started out with a few pinpricks, and then rushed into one torrent of water, like one steady stream, soaking us to the bone instantly.

It had been as close to a bath as I had gotten in maybe two weeks or so. And later, Emily told me, once the royals had used their private baths, the peasants would be able to use the public baths, just giant holes laid with painted stones.

I wished I could be more excited, but I couldn't bring myself to feel it. I would finally be able to rid myself of this filth! Yet I couldn't bring myself to care.

He was finally leaving me alone, Edward I mean, and that had been what I wanted in the first place, had it not? It had, that was why I had written that letter, left it under the pot. I wanted him to forget me, so I could forget him. Because I could not bring myself to ignore his letters, so I just needed him to stop writing them. Yet he wouldn't. But now? I had not seen one in six moons and . . . and I felt sad.

Yes, sad. Such an easy, widely used word, yet for me it fit so perfectly. I was sad. I actually missed his words, his compliments, his adoration. I missed reading his flowing handwriting, his elegant script. I tried so hard to forget him in person, as well, but some things would stick with me forever.

Like the sound his pants made as he walked towards me from across the square, or the glow from the lantern as it slashed across his face, illuminating those eyes, those emerald, perfect eyes. His half smile, flashing out at random times. His face, his hands, his legs, shoulders, fingers. Everything. I just couldn't forget him and I had no idea why, either.

I dreamt about him just the other night, too.

I was in the corn field again, and I was working on the crops. I saw Charlie just ten feet away, smiling to himself as he worked. I looked down at the bindings I held. When I looked up again, Charlie was gone. Instead, standing in full armor, helmet held underneath one shinning arm, was Edward. He held out his free hand, gloved, and I stared at it.

"Come with me." He had said, his voice whispering inside of my head. "Come with me. I'm here to save you Bella."

I reached for his hand.

"I'm here to save you."

And then I woke up, with my hand reaching into the still dark air around me.

Now why would I dream of a man who wrote me a few letters, who fancied himself with making young maidens swoon over him? Well that was easy. Because he had succeeded in swooning me. And I was still madly swooning over him now. Oh man how I was.

Emily tapped me on the shoulder, from the chair I was sitting in. I jumped, and tried to calm my racing heart as I stood to face her. She handed me a large piece of fabric. "To cover yourself, once you exit the baths, in case another peasant were to walk in."

I nodded. It was full dark now, had been for a long time. Emily told me peasants did not bathe this late. Even if I had not been hiding the fact that I was a woman, I would still take a bath this late. There was something just so peaceful about the night, so alluring . . .

The town baths were down an ally off of the town square. It took us a quick ten minute walk to reach them. The sun had been hot earlier, and the open ceiling allowed the rays to heat the water. I dipped a bare foot into the water and smiled. Perfect.

"Emily, can you help me with my bindings?" I asked pulling my shirt over my head and dropping it to the floor. I heard Emily move behind me and she untied the knot behind me. The bindings loosened instantly and my breasts were freed. It hurt more, actually, to have them free then to have them bound for some reason. But only for a while.

With my back still to Emily, I undressed completely and stepped into the baths. I ducked my head into the water instantly, having to move to my knees to do so. The water was only about three feet high, but I was not complaining. I soaked my hair, washing the honey out. It was getting longer. My hair grew so fast.

Emily came in five minutes later. The moon was the only thing to light the bathing rooms, but it was enough to make out the chairs and the benches lining the walls within the room. The water would be drained through the aqueducts soon from the filth that would accumulate, so Emily had insisted on coming tonight.

I sighed heavily and lifted my legs so I was floating on my back, staring at the full moon above me. I did not like this. I could not deny the fact that I wanted to talk to Edward and see him again and for him to talk to me once more. I was undoubtedly attracted to him. Dreams with him just holding out his hands were not the only dreams I was having of him, if you know what I mean. They were innocent enough, and I always woke up before anything good could happen. I only prayed to the gods that Emily couldn't hear me speaking in my sleep during these dreams.

I hadn't had once since he stopped talking to me, though. And I thought I would love this. That what I had been aiming for was to not have any dreams of him at all. But I missed the imaginary feeling of his arms wrapping around my waist from behind me, of his hot breath whispering across the nape of my neck. I was starting to lose the memory of the dream where his lips, curled up into his glorious half smile, ghosted across my flaming cheek. And his hands sliding across my waist. Across the material of my dress held tight against my body. His fingers fumbling with the ties in the back, the feeling of the materials as it fell from my shoulders . . .

And then there I would wake up. When either of us got naked, I woke up. Yes, there were dreams where he came to me, pulling his shirt off and pulling a lot more clothes off, and then I would wake up sweating. And I would swear into the night because all I wanted was to see Lord Edward naked.

Yes, I was sinning in the vilest of ways. I should not be having these impure thoughts of a Lord, no less. But I was weak, as I have discovered a very long time ago, and I could not stop the thoughts . . . nor did I want to.

"I'm going back to the house, Bella." Emily said. Her voice was muffled and quiet since my ears were under the water, but I nodded anyways. The sky was littered with a mesh of stars and I smiled to myself as I traced imaginary shapes in them. It was quiet under the water, so silent . . .

"Excuse me?"

I jumped. Only, if you jump when you are lying on your back in water, you just plummet to the bottom. Go figure. I came up coughing and splashing, wiping the water from my eyes to see who had crept in here. I was still coughing when I swam my way over to the edge of the bath. I held on to the stone as I let my eye adjust to see a small, petite woman standing in the archway to the baths. Her hair was pitch black and pulled into a bun behind her head. She was so . . . so _small_.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry." She said, holding a hand to her neck as she came further into the room. "I didn't mean to scare you I just didn't know anyone else used the baths this late."

I smiled a little, praying to the gods it was dark enough so she could not see my hair. "It's fine, I was just leaving anyway."

I pulled myself from the baths, quickly grabbing the cloth to cover myself with and nudging my pants a shirt further into the shadows with my toe. It was stupid. I was stupid. I should have worn a dress to the baths. Now I could not even get dressed, for this woman would see I dressed in men's clothes. Even that could be punishable, if not by death then by a severe beating.

She smiled and walked passed me, her feet bare. I watched her, moving to the side so she could undress by the bench. Only she didn't stop there. She just kept walking, and walking, and walking, until she reached the back corner, to the largest bath with colored stones designing intricate patterns along the bottom. The aqueducts poured water in continuously, and the dirty water was filtered out through another drainage aqueduct. I stared at her, at first stupidly confused, and then horrifyingly stunned.

"Oh—oh my." I whispered. "Are you the queen?" I whispered. I could hear my heart beat roaring in my ears, and wondered if this tiny woman could hear it too. But she just laughed a shrill, girlish laugh.

"Oh, thank the god's no." she giggled. "No, I am Princess Alice. Are you new to the kingdom?"

I swallowed thickly and then nodded. "Yes, I am staying with a friend. I will be moving soon. I'm sorry, my lady, I have to leave."

I turned to go, gripping the cloth to my body. "Oh, wait!" Alice yelled. I tensed, and then turned around, having no choice. I either did as she said, or get killed for defying her. Hm . . . tough choice.

She was suddenly walking towards me and I ferociously fought off the urge to run away. "You hair." She said quietly, now in front of me. Her tiny hand came up, and at that point I couldn't fight it. I flinched away from her hand and she froze, but did not seem offended. She just lowered her hand. "Oh dear, your face, too."

Her eyebrows scrunched together as she examined my bruised and swollen face. "What is your name?"

The air around us was filled with a thick silence as every possibility flew in to my mind, and every possibility went through my head and I didn't even consider them, because instinct had taken over. "Isabella, my lady." I answered, stupidly. Why did I just use my own name? This could be it, probably would be it. This was over.

"Isabella . . .?" her eyes darted over my face again, her eyes scanning over my short hair and then back to my face. Her eyes were slowly getting bigger and bigger, and I would have laughed at the sight, if I had not been consumed by this disastrous feeling of dread. She started looking around. She looked at my feet, then the area around it. She looked behind me, behind her, and then she found what she was looking for.

I closed my eyes tightly, dropping my head. I heard Alice move to the shadows where I hid my clothes. "I'm sorry, Charlie." I whispered in to the night air, hoping the gods would give me this one chance to speak to him. "I'm so, so sorry."

I opened my eyes to see Alice staring at me, the shirt and pants held in both of her tiny hands. "Isabella. Were you in the courtyard a week and a half ago, at night, sitting on the fountain? Was your hair longer then?"

I hated myself when the tears started to well in my eyes, but I blinked them away. "yes." I croaked out. Might as well just admit everything. Either her kingdom would execute me, or Lord James would stop by and do it himself. Either way I failed. And either way it hurt.

"Did you meet a man, Lord Edward?"

I hesitated more this time. "Yes. How did you know?"

"He is my brother." She said. "And _you_ are breaking his heart."

This time I just didn't speak at all, instead I just stared at her. "Of course this is why you have been ignoring him." She muttered to herself. "If you met with him, he would see you have been impersonating a _man_. It all makes sense now!" She threw me the shirt, and I caught it with my free hand, holding the cloth over my body with the other. She then pointed to the bench by the wall. "Sit." She ordered.

I pulled the shirt on as fast as I could and sat, confused to the point where I decided to not even think about it. I placed my hands in my lap and stared at them as she sat.

"Speak."

And so I spoke.

I did not feel the relief in any way I had when I told Emily all of my secrets. Instead, now, I felt sad and I felt hurt and I felt weak and stupid. I felt called out, and fake. And I was all of these things. All of them and plus some.

When I finished the air rang with my confession. By now the tears were let loose, silently dripping into the palms of my callused, cracked palms. I was tired, so tired, and it seemed sudden. Maybe I had been this tired all along, but I had never even realized it.

"You made my brother fall in love with you, and then you turn yourself in to a man to join said brother's army and deceive him, only to kill a Lord, a future king, from another kingdom?" Alice asked finally, summarizing everything.

I swallowed. "Yes, but I do not believe he has been chosen by the gods. I do not believe he deserves the power he has." I said quickly, an urge to defend myself arising from some hidden place.

"No, you're not getting the point." Alice snapped, and I quieted, bowing my head once more. "You made my brother _love_ you, and then you break his heart. That's cruel Isabella. That's what upsets me more than the fact you are on a quest to kill a king, basically. I'm trying to over look that for the moment and then go back to it later."

I was quiet, my eyes wide. "He loves me?" I whispered. I saw her nod her head slowly out of the corner of my eye. And that was when I broke down into hysterical sobs in front of a princess.

"Oh my lady, I am so, so sorry." I sobbed, my body shaking from the force of my sobs. "I didn't mean to make him fall in love with me. I didn't mean to let myself fall in love with _him_! It wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to get any connections! Lord James raped and murdered my mother, and beheaded my father. I cannot let their heads just rest on posts in his courtyard! And I cannot stay here, or go back. He plans to rape me until I am broken and have bared him a handful of children, at which point he will kill me and place me with my family. I can't let that happen, my lady. Well, now I have no choice no matter what. Now I have failed my entire family."

Alice was quiet, and the only noise around us was my crying. That was, until I felt her slap my on top of the head. I gasped and sat up, holding a hand to the spot she hit. "Stop crying, Isabella. I'm not turning you in to the authorities."

I stopped crying. I stopped crying that very second.

"I want Lord James to die as well. Only I do not have the guts, or the means, to turn myself into a man and to kill him myself." She said, bowing her head in shame. Only it could have been respect, as well. "I am also not in love with Edward." I looked down, but she hit me again so I just assumed she wanted me to look at her through the dark room. I did. "I'm not like other princess's, Isabella. I have certain likes and dislikes. I dislike Lord James. I dislike my brother being in a horrible depression for a week straight. I dislike the woman he is in love with telling him to forget her because that was what she was doing to him.

"But I like a woman that loves him back. I like a woman being strong enough to avenge her family. I like a woman who can fight back. I like a woman who my brother loves."

I blushed furiously, but did not look down. "Call me crazy, but if so, that would be just mean. Compared to you, I'm completely sane. But I won't tell anyone. I only wish to help. And you will let me help, or else you are going to be in big trouble."

"But my lady, I can't have any connections with anyone—"

"Hush, I am speaking, do not interrupt me." Alice snapped. "I told you, you will do this. If you survive your crazy plan, Edward will accept you and you will marry. If you do not, you will die, and you have nothing to worry about anyways. But admit it, you need an inside source, and I am your only means, accidental or not."

I bit my lip and nodded slowly. Maybe I was wrong about royals. Maybe they were slightly smart after all. Maybe not all of them were corrupt bastards. At least not the woman.

Alice held out her dainty hand, and I smiled before I took it and shook it firmly. "You have a deal." I said, and stood up, Alice following.

"I want you to write a letter to him tonight, leave it for him tomorrow. When he writes back, I don't want to see more than a two days delay before you write to him. I'll find you when I need to speak to you."

I nodded my head, but she was already moving away, back to the bath she had been about to take before we met. "You must be tired though, so go back to your cabin and write, then sleep. Edward should show back up to training after you write to him, and I need you to work on him there, too. He will think he is sinning for his feelings, but do it anyways. It should be funny."

I smirked, and watched her back as she moved to the shadowed corner. "I'll see you soon, Isabella."

I took that as my dismissal.

So I moved back to Emily's cabin. She was already sleeping, so I took advantage of the privacy to write.

I wrote because I realized tow things that night.

One was that I knew Lord Edward loved me and that made these strange butterfly feelings erupt in my stomach.

The second was because I undoubtedly, and unconditionally loved him as well.

I loved Lord Edward from that first night I saw him.

Maybe I was a little crazy.

Maybe so, but I loved it.


	7. To Find Out

I smashed through the door into Emily's cabin, my arm stinging. My breaths came in panting gasps as I ran into the eating area and grabbed the loaf of bread I had bought earlier today, tearing it in half.

"Bella!" and that would be Emily, catching up to me as I ran away from her. I ran to grab my cloak, my sword hitting against the back of my calf. "Bella wait!"

I lifted one of my spare shirts from the mattress I slept on and tore the sleeve, biting an edge in my teeth and wrapping it around my upper arm with my free hand. I tied it as best as I could, hoping the bleeding would at least slow.

I wiped the sweat off of my brow and threw the cloak over my shoulders. Emily smashed into my side then, knocking me into the wall. I hadn't even heard her enter the cabin. I cried out in surprise and pain and attempted to push her off, only her weight had caught me at an angle that made escape nearly impossible.

"Emily, are you mad?" I screamed, spitting into her face on accident. She grimaced and turned her head to the side. "Get off of me!"

She had fared worse than I on our sprint through town. Her pants were heavy and labored and hot. I could feel the air hitting against me, extremely unpleasant in its feeling. "Stop moving Bella and just wait! You cannot leave! It is absurd! You will die!"

"Where am I to go?" I shouted, moving my body in every direction I could. "Where am I to stay? They know Emily! You were in the square did you not hear Edward call after me? He knows! I must LEAVE!"

I threw my body to the left, bringing her tumbling to the floor with me. She grunted, and the breath was knocked out of her long enough for me to wriggle out of her grasp and stand up. "But he did not sound angry, Bella. He sounded surprised, yes, but he wasn't angry!" Emily gasped on the floor.

"It does not matter, Emily. He is to be king, he cannot break the law. He must do what is right and that would be to kill me and I cannot let him do that. I can't! Not until lord James is dead!" I stood to my feet, my chest rising and falling quickly as I was nearly overcome with the heat and heaviness of the day. "Let me leave, Emily. If I am ever able to come back, I will, please, you must let me leave though!"

Not that she would be able to stop me.

"I left my money on the counter. You can buy yourself food with it. I took three coins to find stay in the next town." I muttered.

I stuffed the bread into the folds of my cloak, and threw the hood up to cover my face.

"Bella, please my child, do not do this!" Emily cried helplessly from the ground.

I did not stop. I walked through the door and into the sunlight. "Goodbye, Emily." I said quietly over my shoulder.

…..

**3 days earlier**

EPOV

It would be too vulgar to say I shit my pants the minute I saw the letter. It would also be untrue. It just felt like I shit my pants.

I was walking to the battle fields and there it was. Not hidden like the others. So obviously out in the open for me to see and oh how I saw it. I hadn't even known I was looking towards the flower beds until I saw that scratched and dirty parchment. I read it on the edge of the fountain, interrupted every five seconds by some peasant passing by and thanking me for one thing or another that I did not even do. They just thanked me because I was the future king, and they hoped that I would remember their thanks specifically out of the thousands I received if they ever came into a time of trouble.

My Isabella wrote of forgiveness. She wrote of wanting to start a faint trust with me. She went through sleepless nights, she said, and the nights that she did sleep were filled with dreams of me. I smiled at that.

She could not see me, could not meet in person, as I wished in all of my letters. She wanted to write, and when she was ready she said she would speak, would meet with me in person, and that I should keep hope and trust her. I would. I would do anything she asked of me.

It was funny, how just moments ago I was walking through this square towards the fighting ground, depression creeping into my mind for I knew my Bella and I were never going to be together. And in maybe the three minutes time it took me to read the letter through the interruptions, and to reread it maybe ten or fifteen more times, my mind had completely broken down and my will power ceased to exist. Everything I had been working up to banish from my thoughts came rushing back and I welcomed it. I was powerless to the words and memories of my beautiful Bella.

I folded the letter and pocketed it into the back of my trousers. I had places to be, unfortunately. It would be amazing if I could have nothing to do, ever, and just sit on that edge of the fountain for the rest of the day, for the rest of every day to come, and just think of my beautiful Isabella.

I readjusted my shirt, deciding to opt out of the armor today. It was too heavy, and although the rain seemed to have come back regularly, the heat was coming on hard and strong and it was extremely overwhelming at times. The fields were crowded and filled with sweaty men. I noticed Isaac instantly, fighting with some of the men in his group. It was almost comical, watching his tiny body try to intimidate the extremely strong and well built men in his group.

I walked over to Jasper, who was leaning against a tree and examining the blade of his sword. He looked up when I came closer and smiled. "Alice told me about you and your secret lover. Way to go killer."

I scowled and leaned against the tree next to him, crossing my arms. "She was supposed to keep quiet about that. And I'm finished with that anyways. Carlisle told me I needed to stop fooling around." I said, lying easily. Of course I wasn't done with Isabella. I was only getting started with her.

Jasper snorted and looked over to me with raised eyebrows. "You know he's just stressed. Of course he wants you to fall in love, he just doesn't want the Volturi kingdom to come over here and kill everyone."

We were silent, just looking across the field of fighting men.

"Why haven't you tried finding her yet?" Jasper asked, sheathing his sword.

"What?"

"Look for her. Why have you not even tried to find the love of your life? All you're doing is reading letters." Jasper sighed, as if this were pathetic.

I opened my mouth to say something and then closed it, suddenly at a loss for words. "I—she—she doesn't want to meet yet?" I stuttered out, almost as if it were a questions.

Jasper snorted and shook his head, beginning to walk away. "Don't you want to know if the love of your life loves you back?" he shouted over his shoulder.

I stood still, frowning, for a good five minutes before I left the field.

…B…E…B…E…B…E…B…E

"You've seen her?" I asked, breathless, my surprise overcoming my relief. Who knew five straight hours of walking around town and asking peasants if they had seen a brown haired woman, a traveler, could e so tiring? So many people said they had seen her and my heart had lifted straight from my chesty. But then I'd ask for more details and they would crush my hope by telling me she was missing her top row of teeth, or she had a broken leg or wrist or something. Yea, well, I was pretty sure when I saw Isabella, she had all her teeth and all her bones were just fine.

So I'm not sure why every time someone told me they saw their own version of Bella I got extremely excited. This time was no different.

I stood in front of a crippled baker named William. He had long black hair, tied behind him with a thin piece of twine. He stood behind a wooden counter, sitting upon a stool while his son gathered together ingredients for his father to mix. The little cabin was over whelmed with the smell of fresh bread, and I found it oddly fascinating that the stress of my day seemed to almost melt away with the calming scent.

"Yes, I believe I know who you are talking about." William said, holding a loaf of bread in his hand and squeezing it with his fingers to hear the crunch, and smiling when he did so. "She was small thing. I let her buy an entire loaf for a coin."

"B-but can you describe her to me?" I asked, breathless.

"Jacob, take the loaves out from the oven please." William called over his shoulder to the well built male scurrying around behind him. William turned back to me and sighed. "She was shorter than you, maybe to your shoulder, no higher. Her hair was long and brown, dirty, like she hadn't bathed in a while. Her eyes were brown I believe, kind of hard to forget those eyes. She wore a brown dress and boots, like the kind one would wear into a farming field."

I stared at the man, eyes wide. That was Isabella. That was her. "Your memory is impeccable." I said, my mind wandering.

"Hm, thank you my Lord. She was traveling, as well. Just came into town. Was asking where rooms were available. Poor girl, she could not have been more than seventeen years and was already on her own." He shook his head at the shamefulness of this, and I too felt the pain. My dear Isabella was on her own, fending for herself.

I cleared my throat, finding my voice. "Did you recommend her to any rooms that you can remember?" I asked.

"I personally did not." William said, shaking his head. Jacob came over then, placing freshly baked loafs of bread onto the countertop as some peasants came in, ready to barter. "But my son, Jacob, did."

Jacob looked over at the sound of his name. William nodded his head over in our direction and he obediently came over, lanky arms swaying at his sides. "Yes, father?"

"The Lord was inquiring about the young maiden that came in a while back, the one with the brown hair. Do you remember the places you recommended her to stay at?" William asked.

I felt a pang of jealously as Jacob smiled, obviously remembering Isabella. I pushed it aside though, too eager to gain more information. "Isabella, yes, I r member her. I think I told her about the Clearwater's spare room down by the fields, but when I told her about the prices she seemed kind of dissuaded."

I sighed. This did not help me at all. The boy was just wasting my time. I opened my mouth to excuse myself, but Jacob seemed to remember something suddenly. "Oh! I told her of the Emily woman, the widow, and she seemed to lean towards this idea more."

"Emily? Who is Emily?" I asked, back into the conversation at once.

"Her husband died in war a while ago." William answered. "She lives near the square and sells her cooking skills, sometimes even to your castle."

I could not remember any Emily woman cooking for my family, but then again I could not remember anyone who has cooked for us. "Where does this Emily reside?" I asked, my heart racing.

"Jacob, was it ten or eleven houses uphill from the butcher?" William asked, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Eleven."

I hit the counter with the palm of my hand, a smile erupting onto my face. "Thank you. Thank you so much." I said. I turned and almost ran from the bakery. The streets were crowded as peasants came out to gather their ingredients for dinner, but I did not need to worry about pushing my way through or anything slowing me down. The peasants naturally stepped out of my way, knowing I was a Lord. They did not even have to recognize me. Only the clothes I wore and the fact that I was actually clean cued them in on it. The only obstacle that challenged me was a careless carriage rider who nearly trampled me with his wild horse.

I was too set on my destination to even care, despite his urgent pleas of forgiveness. I found the butcher, and broke into a jog, counting the houses as I moved up the hill.

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

I stopped in front of the eleventh house, my breathing coming in shortened gasps. The house was quant enough, slightly shambled from weather and the lack of a man to keep up with it. I barely hesitated, however, and entered the building.

"Hello?" I called out into the house upon entering. "Is anyone home?"

"Excuse me?" a woman called from another room. I smiled and moved towards the doorway. "Who do you think you are, just barging into a ladies home?" I stopped mid-step when a petite woman carry a frying pan rounded the corner, her face set in an upset scowl, a scar running down the side of her face. My eyes widened and I held my hands palm forward in front of me.

"No! No, I'm Lord Edward, I am only here to ask you a few questions. Please, I apologize for entering without permission, that was rude." I rushed to say, hoping she would recognize me before she bashed my head in. That looked like fine, expensive metal, capable of doing some heavy damage.

Her eyes widened the minute she had time to really process who I was. The pan fell from her hand, landing in a loud crash to the dirt floor. Her hands flew to her mouth, looking horrified and stricken. "My Lord!" she gasped through her fingers. "I am so sorry! I didn't recognize you, please forgive me. I'm not used to men barging in, I live without a man myself and I must be prepared to defend myself—"

I held my hand up, cutting her off. "Emily, it is fine. All is well. It's completely my fault. All I want is to just ask you a few simple questions."

Emily nodded, her hands still clasped to her mouth, what seemed to be a permanent look of horror painted across her face. I moved to sit in one of the wooden chairs set in the center of the small room, and she slowly seated herself across from my, finally removing her hands from her face to flatten her skirt.

"What do you wish to know, my Lord?" She asked, clearing her throat.

I sighed and clasped my hands in my lap. "I just wanted to know if you currently have any guests residing in the room you were advertising."

Her eyes narrowed instantly, most likely without her knowing. I could see her struggling to hide her suspicion, and I could also see her failing horribly to do so. "Yes, my lord. I have had that room rented out for a little over a week now."

I hid my smile. "I only ask because I am searching for a woman by the name of Isabella." I watched her closely as I said the name, watched her eyes widen and her chest rise and fall in fast breaths. I watched her desperately try to hide her reaction. "And the baker said he told her to come here. Do you recall renting out your room to this woman? Is she here now?"

She was silent for a moment, staring at my with her lips pressed together in a thin line. "My Lord—"

"Emily!" a high pitched male voice sounded from outside. A very familiar male voice. "I have Samuel with me; I hope you made enough stew. The stupid bastard nearly cut my arm clean off today."

Isaac came into the cabin, smiling and laughing with Samuel by his side. Isaac supported a limp arm with part of the fabric stained with blood. He seemed unaffected by this. He did notice me immediately upon entering though, and paused.

"My Lord." He said dumbly, staring at me with wide, bruised and swollen eyes. Although the swelling was going down by an incredibly large amount. I hoped that by the time his face was healed I would be able to tell who he was, where I knew him from. Otherwise I might go mad from the feeling of recognition.

"Isaac." I said, surprised, and stood, along with Emily. Isaac looked to Emily, eyes still wide. Emily was standing in front of me, back to me, and I could tell they were having some secret conversation, if only with their eyes, for Isaac's mouth did not move and Samuel was looking back and forth between them in a stupid, confused way.

"How do you know Emily?" I asked, trying to end their communication, however odd it was.

Emily turned to me quickly, cutting Isaac off as he opened his mouth to answer. "He's the one I am renting the room out to." She said quickly. I looked at her for a long time without speaking and then up to Isaac who stood frozen at the doorway.

Something was wrong here.

"Did you not even see Isabella then? Did she not stop by at all?" I asked, a spark of hope yet again getting quenched within me. There was a strange choking sound by the door and I looked to see Isaac, coughing on what seemed to be air.

"Isabella?" he asked, once he had righted himself. "W-who's that?" I looked at him for the longest time as he blushed. I could see the feminine thing even behind his bruised skin.

Emily seemed too nervous and jumpy and twitchy, and Isaac had obviously recognized the name by the way he reacted to it. He must know the name very well, judging by the fact that he had choked on air.

I looked back and forth between the two, then deciding I was getting nothing, nodded. "I will be back. I have just a few questions more to ask." I walked past Emily, but paused once I reached Isaac, who was stepping out of the way so I could leave. "Tend to your wound, Isaac. Don't want you getting too seriously injured, now do I?" I saw him swallow thickly. I paused, watching him closer. There was something incredibly off by that one simple act, yet I could not place it. All he had done was swallow, yet something was missing, something key.

I brushed it aside and walked through the doorway, into the air that was fast approaching dusk. I would definitely be back. They knew something of my beloved Isabella. If they had done anything o her, then they would surely pay. But I had no idea where she was yet. They did, however. I was sure of it.

And Isaac? He was seeming weirder and weirder to me by the second. I would have to keep my eye on him at all times, never letting him out of my sight. He may just be the key to finding the love of my life, the woman I dreamt of every night.

…E…B…E…B…E…B…E…B...

I leaned against that oh so familiar tree in the back center of the field, arms crossed, my eyes trained solely on Isaac. He was desperately trying to dodge one of the more massive, muscle toned mans swipes. It was not skill Isaac showed when dodging the blows, but one of panic. I understood. Isaac was so tiny that one hit could chop his entire arm off. At one point I thought I should go over there and stop the guy from going on a killing rampage, but I decided I was too content just leaning against the tree.

I couldn't even pay attention to any of my other soldiers. I got no sleep the other night, instead opting to pace around my room and grow further and further suspicious of Isaac. There was a gnawing, almost insane type of feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was terribly wrong here. I just couldn't pin point it.

The big guy Isaac was fighting made the mistake of swiping at his left side, then immediately following with the right side, which allowed Isaac to easily see this coming and he hit the sword with his own in a way that sent a painful vibration up his arm. Isaac took this moment to move his sword against the handle of the big guy's sword, twisting his fingers and making him lose the grip he had on it. It dropped to the ground, sticking into the soft soil. Isaac, panting, stood with the blade of his sword pressed against his neck.

I nodded, impressed, and continued watching. He turned to the rest of the group, wiping sweat from his forehead, and started describing the movement he did that caused the big guy to drop the sword.

"You know it's rude to stare, Eddie." Emmett said, hitting me in the arm as he came to a stop next to me, drinking water from a jug and readjusting his breast plate.

"Don't call me Eddie." I muttered, although my heart wasn't behind it. Isaac had let the men partner up ad they were dueling, trying to copy the movement. Isaac was just walking around, and I watched him as he tripped over his own feet every other step.

"Oo, someone's got a stick up their ass. Who you looking at?" he followed my gaze to Isaacs group. "The English guy?"

I nodded my head, absentmindedly. Isaac daintily brushed a strand of his bangs form his eyes and then stumbled to the side, having hit the heel of his right shoe. I chuckled, despite myself. "That kid is good. At the sword, I mean." I said, finally looking over to Emmett. He was looking across the field, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his hand.

"Yea, I noticed before. I went over there to see what he was doing the other day and he was practically fighting those men with his eyes closed. Impressive." Emmett said, nodding.

I looked back over to Isaac, and saw him standing by his friend Samuel, laughing. He turned to look at his men, but caught sight of Emmett's armor, and then my underdressed self next to him. He looked at me for a second and our eyes connected. He looked away the next second, barely even a second actually, but we still made eye contact. And I had no doubt he was hiding something now.

"Days over so I'm heading back to the castle to see Rose." Emmett sighed, handing me the jug of water which I took. "You coming back with me?"

I shook my head. "Naw, I'm going to wait out here a moment longer."

Emmett walked off, back to the castle. I stayed by the tree and watched as the men slowly filtered off of the field. Isaac, now knowing I was watching him, looked over his shoulder continuously, every time looking away as soon as our eyes met. He seemed to be the last one to leave, or maybe it was just that way to me. But finally, as the sun was beginning to get tainted by a pinkish hue, him and Samuel walked off from the field.

I pushed myself away from the tree and followed. They moved in the direction of the square, and when they entered the crowded, packed area, Isaac paused and said something to Samuel, in which a moment later Sam walked down through the square in a separate direction, towards Emily's house.

I stayed at a good distance, so whenever Isaac looked back over his shoulder to see if I was still watching or following, he could not see me through the sea of people.

He moved to the castle wall, underneath the balcony, that was always covered in shadows and at a cooler temperature from the stone wall. He stood towards the back corner, biting his lower lip. No one would notice him instantly if they hadn't been looking for him. I tilted my head, wondering what he was doing.

Then I saw Alice.

She came into the shade under the balcony and stood in front of Isaac, her back to me, so I could not see Isaac's face. I stood still, my eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Okay, so now Alice was involved as well?

And involved in what, exactly?

What was happening?

Alice stood there for maybe ten minutes and seemed to be in a heated discussion with Isaac, although she was always overly dramatic with every one of her conversations. Isaac stood in his same position for a month, chewing on his lip, looking torn between something. He left a moment later, however. I followed him back to Emily's at which point I figured the surprises for the day were done, since Samuel was inside eating as well, and I didn't think he was in on whatever was happening.

I walked back to the castle slowly, nodding to the peasants who stopped to thank me for something, my hands clasped behind my back. Dinner was being served when I entered the cool castle, but I denied the invitation and moved to my room, sitting on top of my bed.

Emily knew something about Isabella. She saw her, judging by her reaction. Isaac at least recognized the name, and some sort of symbolism behind the name, maybe from what Emily told him, judging by the way he choked on nothing by the sound of her name. And Alice was having secret meetings with Isaac, who was talking to Emily. So . . . my sister-in-law was involved in some sort of cover up for something that had to do with Isabella . . .

My head spun with this confusing discovery. I sat on the bed for what felt like a short time, but I was suddenly torn from my thoughts by a tight knocking on the door. My head snapped up, surprised, and I stared into a pitch black room. I rubbed my eyes, surprised by how my thoughts had run away on me that badly.

I stood up and lit a few lanterns around the room before I moved to my door and opened it. Alice stood in front of me, bouncing on her tip toes, hand raised to knock again. She smiled when she saw me.

"Eddie!" she cheered, moving beside me and into the room. "Have you heard anything from your special little lady?"

She moved to her favorite part of my room, the closet, and started shifting through the clothes once again. I stared into the empty hallway where Alice stood maybe three seconds ago for about two minutes before I stepped back and closed the door. I moved and sat down on the bed.

"Yea. She wrote a few times." I said quietly, looking at her back as she pulled some shirts out.

"And…?"

"I wrote some letters back."

She paused and looked back at me so I could see her roll her eyes. "Any amazing breakthroughs?"

"No."

She sighed and pulled out a maroon shirt, staring at it for a while before making some sniffing noise of disapproval and replacing it.

"Alice," I said, rubbing my jaw, covered in stubble. "How do you know Isaac?"

"Isaac?" she asked, pulling out a navy blue colored shirt. "Who's Isaac?"

She sounded so sincere with her confusion that I almost believed her. "Isaac is the English guy who is in my ranks. Came in a little over a week ago."

"Oh, I've heard about him." She said absentmindedly, deciding with a deep blue shirt for me to wear tomorrow. "I've been meaning to find him. His accent is supposed to be really amazing. I think I might do that tomorrow, if Esme doesn't need me for anything."

I stared at her as he laid the shirt out on the bench by the fire place. She sighed and looked over to me, resting her hands on her hips. "You better wear this shirt. I was so insulted last time when you didn't wear it when I laid it out for you."

I nodded my head, trying to read her expression as closely as possible. She looked sincere enough, bored even. There was no fear of being discovered in her eyes, no nervousness or embarrassment. She just looked like she always did when she was picking out clothes. Oddly at ease.

"Good night." I said quietly. She smiled and nodded, wishing me a good night as well before leaving me alone in the room.

I had seen her talking with Isaac, I was sure of it. I recognized Alice anywhere; she had a very distinct way about her. And I knew it was Isaac she was talking to as well, because I had just been watching Isaac for the past eight and a half hours. There was no possible way I accidently mistook him for someone else.

I fell asleep there, thinking about it, and having restless dreams of Isabella.

BPOV

He knew. Or . . . he at least knew some of it. Alice assured me he was clueless, but I didn't believe her. The way he was staring at me at the practice field today was . . . was defiantly a sure sign he knew something. I didn't think he knew I was Bella, because he would have definitely approached me about that the minute he discovered it.

The minute Samuel left last night, Emily told me about what he had asked, how she had reacted, why he was even there in the first place when I showed up. He had looked for me, she said. Had walked through the entire town for hours, asking random people, finally stumbling upon the Black's who told him they had referred me to this place.

I knew it was stupid of me to react the way I did at the sound of my name, but I was just so surprised. That was what probably clued him in, damn it.

But he had shamelessly stared me down all day today, and I even felt as if he had been following me home, although that had turned out to just be my paranoia working at its best since I could not see him. Alice wanted me to make a move, too. Tell him about me, since according to her, his suspicion was the perfect gateway into letting my secret out. I disagreed immensely to that statement. And I disagreed with it the entire time she tried pushing it earlier. Which was why she made me agree to meet her within the throne room the following day.

I didn't sleep at all that night, instead going to the baths with Emily again, wearing my peasant dress this time and my cloak, with the hood raised. The sun rose as I sat in the straw mattress, and I watched the rays of elongating light stretch across the dirt floor, through the cut out window.

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. I stood when the room was fairly lit, and moved into the eating room to grab two coins from the money pouch. I pulled on my boots and walked into town, walking down the hill and to the bakery. The smell of bread brought a faint, tired smile to my face. I was slightly surprised they were up this early, but then again, according to Samuel and Emily, their bread was in high demand and they were always in production.

I entered the bakery and saw an empty counter, but heard noise in the back room, where the oven was. I stood still and quietly cleared my throat. "Hello?" I called out. There was a loud crash, followed by cursing, and then Jacob came through the doorway. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." I apologized, unable to keep the smile form my face.

"No, no it's fine. We just don't usually get customers this early." He said, rubbing flour off of his hands. "What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted some bread." I said, holding out the coins. I dumped them in his head and he nodded. "I just started baking about thirty minutes ago, so it'll be about another ten minute before a loaf is ready."

I nodded and moved to the table set in the back corner of the bakery, sitting on top of the small wooden stool.

I looked at my hands, picking at the dirt underneath my nails. I sighed and pulled my sword out from its sheath, turning it upside down so the handle was held between my feet. I moved my nail across the blade, sawing through it. They were getting way too long.

"Do I know you?" Jacobs asked, startling me. I jumped, cutting my finger. I hissed in pain and brought it to my mouth, sucking on it. I looked up at him as he leaned across the counter, looking at me closely.

"I don't know, maybe I came in for bread one time. I'm new here so odds are you recognize me for my voice." I applied the accent thick there, hoping he would just stop with whatever he thought he was on to. There was no possible way he recognized me from that first day I came in here, so he obviously mistook me for some other guy who was short, English, skinny, and dirty. Obviously.

"No, I don't think so. I would recognize if an English bloke came in here. You guys are famous. I remember you from something else." He said. I sighed and dropped my hand from my mouth, sheathing my sword and leaning against the mud wall behind me.

"I don't know Jacob. Maybe I bumped into you in town." I said.

"Ha, you said my name." he said, standing upright and pointing at me as if he had caught me confessing to a murder.

"So?"

"How would you know my name if you hadn't met me before, and remembered me too?" he asked, smiling.

I was silent for a moment. "Because—because your bakery is famous so your name is famous too." I stuttered out, bowing my head to hide the blush that gave the lie away.

"Yea, right." He scoffed, and shook his head as he moved into the back room to grab the loafs of bread. I sighed and stood, wanting to get out of here as fast as I could when he handed me the bread.

Maybe ten minutes later he came back out holding a hot loaf in his hand. He handed it over, smiling. "I'm going to figure it out, you know." He said, winking.

I turned around, swallowing, and walked out the door. God damn it why was my life doing this to me.

I walked back to Emily's and dropped the bread on the counter. I wasn't going to the practice field today. I just didn't have it in me to do it. The men in my group would have to fend for themselves, and frankly, they weren't so stupid as to not know what to do. Or were they?

I shook it off and collapsed onto the straw mattress, hoping to catch at least some sleep before I had to meet Alice.

…E…B…E…B…E…B…E…B..E…B

"Bella, Bella wake up." Something hit my harshly across the face and I gasped, flying into a sitting position and reaching for the sword at my hip. I saw Emily standing above me though and paused, letting out a slow breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you like that. You're just a heavy sleeper." She said, shrugging.

She held her hand out and I took it, standing to my feet. "What's wrong?" I asked, looking around with heavy eyes.

"Oh, nothing, sorry, should have started off with that. It's just that the sun is going down and I just wanted to know if you planned on eating anything today." She said, swallowing thickly.

"The sun is going down?" I asked, eyes wide. I strode over to the window, looking up at the sky to find she was telling the truth. "Shit." I moaned, moving to the eating area and grabbing some honey to spread through the tips of my hair. "Okay, thank you for the offer Emily, but I have to meet Alice. I should be back in like thirty minutes or something. We never talk about anything useful in those meetings."

I sniffed and rubbed my nose, yawning. "Is Sam coming for dinner tonight?" I asked.

"Oh, no, not tonight." Emily said, moving into the eating room. I nodded and moved out the door, onto the street, into the quickly cooling air.

The men from the battle field were probably returning home by now, which meant I would have to be a little extra careful upon entering the castles for fear of Edward seeing me. He already suspected too much anyways.

I entered the square and moved along the wall of the castle until I rounded the corner where the horse trail led to the large wooden gates. I stood outside of them for a moment and then knocked. The doors opened slightly and a large, burly guard stood in front of me, his face covered in a bushy brown beard. "Isaac?" he asked.

I nodded my head, a little weirded out, and was allowed to walk through the gates. "Um, I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go—" I started, but he was already walking off through a small outside garden. I followed him, biting nervously on my bottom lip. Yea, it was official. I wasn't meeting Alice inside the castle anymore.

The man was silent as he led me around a small fountain and a small, shallow bath until we entered a spacious, open stone room, with reclined chairs and plush cushions to relax on. I looked around, stunned by the obvious riches the castle held.

He led me down a small corridor and through a door with a large lion, obviously their kingdoms symbol, and into the throne room. Alice was pacing in front of the two empty throwns, her hand held in a fist and to her mouth. She looked over at the sound of our approach and sighed.

"Finally." She groaned, and stepped off of the thrown platform. "Not to say a word, right Sir Banner?" Alice said, looking towards the knight who escorted me with raised eyebrows. He nodded his head and Alice dismissed him. We were left alone.

"My Lady, I really don't enjoy meeting in the castle." I said nervously, looking around the giant, empty room.

Alice sighed and took my hand. "Come, let's go to my room. Jasper is out with Edward somewhere. He won't be back for a little while."

I swallowed, but I knew better than to argue with a princess and just allowed her to tow me along. She walked quickly, but cautiously, through a hallway. Her room was surprisingly close to the throne room, and we entered the large space, where Alice released my hand to shut the door. Her room was huge, with a roaring fireplace set against one wall and a closet, big enough for me and Emily to sleep in. I looked into it curiously and I actually think I gasped at the sight of how many dresses she had hung up.

"Isn't it amazing?" Alice whispered, suddenly next to me. I jumped and moved away, allowing her to stare adoringly at her collection of garments. I moved to the small area in front of the fireplace, where a rug sat underneath several chairs and cushions. I seated myself down in one and stared at the fire.

Alice joined me maybe five minutes later, looking happy as she always did. Nothing ever really seemed to effect her. What a life.

"So, how do we plan on telling Edward." She said, flattening the skirt of her dress.

I sighed and turned away from the fire to look at her. "We're not." I stated firmly. "I've decided that this is not going to work. I'm not going to risk everything I've worked for, for one stupid man. It's ridiculous and absurd and if he reacts differently than you anticipate, then I'm done, I'm dead, and my father would have died in vain because I fell in love with a stranger in the middle of the night."

Alice groaned and leaned back in her chair, twirling a piece of her jet black hair around her finger. "Isabella, we've been over this again and again. You have to tell him. There is just no possible way to get around it, and you need to face this fact and get over it."

"My Lady, we both know there are plenty of other ways." I said, rubbing my temples delicately with my finger tips. "I cannot tell him. I can leave. Or I can stay and fight and eventually he will lose suspicion. Or I stop writing to him. I can tell him to leave me alone, that I lied again and I did not love him. Need I go on?"

Alice frowned, looking towards the fire. "You won't be happy though." She pouted.

"Happy?"

"Tell me, Bella, what does it feel like when you read his letters." Alice asked absentmindedly, fiddling with a lose strand on her dress.

"What does it feel like?" I asked, confused.

"Yes, Bella, it's not a difficult question. Are you happy, sad, angry….?"

"Oh." I said. "I'm, well, I'm flattered, I guess. And a little happy."

Alice smiled and looked back at me. "And what about when you sleep at night, and dream of the last time you saw your father." I winced, the memories suddenly slapping me in the face. "Exactly."

We were both quiet, having her point brought across. "I need to leave. I must go to the bathroom." I said finally, standing up.

Alice groaned. "We are not done talking, Bella. So just use the chamber room. It the second door on the right, down the hallway. Come right back."

I grimaced, but I knew better than to argue. She was still a princess, and I was still a peasant, no matter what we knew of each other. I exited the room and moved down the hallway, looking behind me constantly to see if anyone saw me. No one did.

I entered the chamber room quietly and closed the wooden door. It smelled vile in here, but I didn't intend to use their chamber pot anyways. I had just used that as an excuse to leave. I sat down against the door and rubbed my face.

I had gotten myself into such a mess. Things were spiraling out of control and it seemed to me as if I couldn't grab onto them again. Alice would not leave me alone until her brother knew of who I truly was, and I could never tell him. What I said by the fire was true, and I meant it. I was not going to give up the vengeance of my father for a boy. No, not just a boy. A god damn _Lord_.

I sat there for a while, until the smell over came me and I had to stand. A small trench was cut along the wall, where the aqueducts poured in a stream of water to look like water was coming from one wall and pouring into a hole in another. I kneeled and placed my hands in the freezing water, washing them, and then splashed my face.

I knew my bruises were fading, because I was not in nearly as much pain, but I had not yet thought of another excuse as to why I could let Emily bash me again. I had said I was beaten up last time. If I used the same thing again, they would surely demand me to tell them names and faces and that I could not do. My hair was growing as well. The honey only made it look greasy now; it didn't even hold it up in spikes anymore.

I lifted the sleeve of my shirt up and looked at the slightly scarring cut Sam had given me the other day. It still stung, and I knew if I even touched it, it would break open again. I sighed and lowered the sleeve. My body would be riddled in scars by the time this was over.

I opened the door of the chamber room and carefully stuck my head out. No one was around. I listened and heard nothing. I stepped out carefully, drying my hands on my pants, and jogged the two doors down to Alice's room.

"Alice, I need to go." I said, entering the room. I didn't look at her by the fire place, rather kept my eyes averted and moved to the dry rag by the large basin she used to wash her face at night. I used that to dry the extra moisture from my fingers.

"And I'm not telling Edward, so please, leave me alone on that." I swallowed thickly, keeping my back turned to her.

Alice tried to say something, but I shook my head. "Alice, I don't know how many times I have to say this. I cannot tell him who I am. That's out of the question. If I were to die before I can avenge my father, then I have failed at not only my own existence, but my fathers and mothers as well. Please, my Lady, let me be. I need to do this on my own."

I swallowed again and dropped the rag. "And I'm sorry about Edward, too. I don't think I've ever felt for a man the things I feel for him." I turned around to look at Alice. "But this was doomed from the start—"

I froze.

Alice froze.

And Edward froze.

He stood a little ways behind Alice, his eyes wide his mouth agape. He stared at me as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Oh no." I whispered, shaking my head. I started backing away in a large arch, towards the direction of the door, making sure to keep a wide berth from him. "Oh no no no."

"Isabella?" he whispered, taking a step forward.

"Stay back!" I shouted, my body starting to shake. Stupid, Bella. Stupid! How could you not even look to see who was in the room before you entered? Stupid stupid stupid!

"Isabella, what—"

"I said stay back!" but he was moving forward and I was moving back. My foot caught on something and I swayed violently before toppling over, taking a small table covered in sewing needles and cloth down with me. I crashed to the stone floor, landing on my arm. I could feel the scar on my cut tear open instantly and I cried out in pain.

Edward was next to me the next second, grabbing my arm to help me to my feet. I gasped and pulled my arm from his grasp, scrambling to my feet. "I need to leave." I whispered, backing away, almost tripping again on something. "Don't follow me."

I turned and ran from the room, holding onto my injured arm and feeling the blood stain yet another shirt. I ran down the hallway and into the throne room. There was a good pause before I heard Edward shout my name again.

"Isabella, wait!"

I ignored him, my heart beating at an incredibly fast rate. I ran into the open sun bathing room, then into the garden, and to the gate where the guard, Sir Banner, stood. He nodded to me, and I smiled, making sure to keep my wounded arm from his sight. I slowed down to make it look like I hadn't been running for my life and slipped through the gate he opened.

"No, stop her!" I gasped and spun around, and saw Edward sprinting through the garden, his hand pointing at me. My eyes darted to the knight, who looked at me, confused. Then I suddenly had tow knights chasing me.

Fear was clenching my gut and I carried my limp arm with me as I sprinted around the castle wall and into the square. It was supper time, so the square was packed with people, and I forced my way through, pushing and shoving people. Many protested, and shouted things at me, but I ignored them. I could hear them gasping the next second, however, as the knight and Edward followed. The willingly stepped out of the way for them, though.

I broke through the more crowded area and looked back over my shoulder to see Edward craning his neck all around to see where I had gone. So being short did have its advantages . . .

I turned around and slammed into Emily, who nearly toppled over if I had not gained my senses so quickly and grabbed her arm to steady her. My fear erased any confusion or curiosity as to why she was in the middle of the square rather than at home.

"Bella, what happened?" she gasped, righting herself and zoning in on the blood pouring from my arm. "Oh my god your hurt."

"Emily, I need to go, I have to leave." I panted, looking over my shoulder. He would see me any second. "Emily, he knows. He knows it's me."

I moved around her, my eyes wide, my breathing fast.

"Isabella!" Edward shouted. I looked over, saw his eyes trained on me, and made some pained noise in the back of my throat.

"I have to leave." I panted, and turned around, sprinting through the streets. I quickly got a stitch in my side, and I held it as I refused to slow my pace to Emily's house.

I smashed through the door into Emily's cabin, my arm stinging. My breaths came in panting gasps as I ran into the waiting area and grabbed the loaf of bread I had bought yesterday, tearing it in half.

"Bella!" and that would be Emily, catching up to me as I ran away from her. I ran to grab my cloak, my sword hitting against the back of my calf. "Bella wait!"

I lifted one of my spare shirts from the mattress I slept on and store the sleeve, biting an edge in my teeth and wrapping it around my upper arm with my free hand. I tied it as best as I could, hoping the bleeding would at least slow.

I wiped the sweat off of my brow and threw the cloak over my shoulders. Emily smashed into my side then, knocking me into the wall. I cried out in surprise and pain and attempted to push her off, only her weight had caught me at an angle that made escape nearly impossible.

"Emily, are you mad?" I screamed, spitting into her face on accident. She grimaced and turned her head to the side. "Get off of me!"

She had fared worse than I on our sprint through town. Her pants were heavy and labored and hot. I could feel the air hitting against me, extremely unpleasant in its feeling. "Stop moving Bella and just wait! You cannot leave! It is absurd and you will die!"

"Where am I to go?" I shouted, moving my body in every direction I could. "Where am I to stay? They know Emily! You were in the square did you not hear Edward call after me? He knows! I must LEAVE!"

I threw my body to the left, bringing her tumbling to the floor with me. She grunted, and the breath was knocked out of her long enough for me to wriggle out of her grasp and stand up. "But he did not sound angry, Bella. He sounded surprised, yes, but he wasn't angry!" Emily gasped on the floor.

"It does not matter, Emily. He is to be king, he cannot break the law. He must do what is right and that would be to kill me and I cannot let him do that. I can't! Not until lord James is dead!" I stood to my feet, my chest rising and falling quickly as I was nearly overcome with the heat and heaviness of the air. "Let me leave, Emily. If I am ever able to come back, I will, but please, you must let me leave!"

Not that she would be able to stop me.

"I left my money on the counter. You can buy yourself food with it. I took three coins to find stay in the next town." I said quickly.

I stuffed the bread into the folds of my cloak, and threw the hood up to cover my face.

"Bella, please my child, do not do this!" Emily cried helplessly from the ground.

I did not stop. I walked through the door and into the sunlight. "Goodbye, Emily." I said quietly over my shoulder.

Where would I go? I didn't know.

All I knew was that I couldn't stay, because I knew for sure the look on Edwards face was not one of sweet relief and love when he figured out Isaac was actually Isabella.

No, the look upon his face was one of horror.


End file.
